Wells to Fill
by TheRushHour
Summary: "If there's one thing in this world I've ever known for sure, it's that this girl is gonna crush me like a small bug." -Gray
1. Chapter 1

**Greetings, people of the internet. Here's my first GrayxClaire fanfic, so... enjoy~!**

* * *

**Chapter One**

Looking around, Claire's jaw clenched tight. It's not like there was much too look at, though, seeing as everything was coaxed in weeds and rubbish. The soil was flaky and poor from the rather dramatic temperature change and years of mistreatment. Bugs danced around the aged chicken coop as they were attracted to the miniature mill still slow in effect. The old oak tree was the only thing that stood strong on the acre of land: the house was petite and the barn was crumbling.

"Hello!" Chuckled a man. Claire turned to see a neat and trimmed fellow sporting a top hat and matching suit. "Are you a tourist?"

She bit her lip. Would it be smart, Claire considered, to really take up this shit hole? Looks never stopped her before.

Smiling, Claire shook her head, "No, sir. MT Realtor called and told me that I could take up this... glorious farm..."

His rosy cheeks popped out as the man struggled to hold back chuckles of disbelief, "MT Realtor told you that you can live a refreshing life on the farm?" As the young woman stayed serious, he tried to match it. "...You're the new farmer?"

"Yes."

Laughter burst from the man so loud that birds nesting blasted from the property's oak and screeched away. He gripped his chubby sides and struggled to make out his words, "You - You've been tricked!"

She scowled but he seemed oblivious to any of her emotions, "It used to be a gorgeous farm, but not any more since the owner passed away. As you can see, no one's been taking care of it."

"Why?"

"Not many people want to work on the farm now," He explained and paused to wipe his nose with the tissue inside his breast pocket. "So they decided to make the advertisement sound more attractive. Every now and then, people who have seen the ad come here," He nodded at her. "Just like yourself. But as soon as they see the farm, they get disappointed and leave."

He snapped his plump fingers, "Just like that. It's been a while since the last one came, though..."

"It was all a chocolate coated lie, then?" Claire sighed.

He examined the young woman for a bit. There was just as much disbelief etched on her features as there was in her voice, "I see. You believed that cheesy advertisement." A smile twitched furiously against his will as the aging man struggled to contain his amusement. Obnoxious laughter came again.

Disappointed and irritated, Claire clenched her hands inside her overall's belly pocket, "Please," she snapped. "Get serious before _I_ have to."

He stopped at once and coughed away the amusement. "I'm, uh, sorry miss. But, really, could you honestly adopt this farm and make something out of it? It's so... abandoned. I'm just looking out for your best interest." There wasn't doubt in Claire. It was hideous and lonely, yes. Yet it was what she needed.

"I really would love to."

He perked up, like new hope slapped across his face, "The house is livable, and actually pretty nice. If you work hard, I think you'll be happy here, Miss..."

"Claire."

He grinned, "Claire. As the Mayor of this town, I will help you as much as I can. Call me Thomas."

Thomas brought her into the home as an awful smell poured out from inside. "Good Goddess," His nose wrinkled. "It smells like rotting wood."

Claire observed the wetting wall panels and shrugged, "For good reason, I suppose."

The two of them sat at the table and filled out the necessary paperwork. The cheery major gave her a final glance of seriousness, asking if she was sure she wanted this before the final signature. The blonde nodded and scratched down her name in elegant loops and swirls. He bid her a farewell and stuffed the papers inside his coat.

"It's a big job, you know that already, though, Miss Claire. We have a great town here with wonderful people. Don't be scared to reach out and connect with your neighbors, they'd be sure to lend a hand, no doubt!"

She nodded, "I'll be sure to do that."

"Goodbye and may I be the first to wish you the luck of the Goddess, Claire!" Thomas waved and made his way out. Sighing, she glanced about the cabin with images of how she could change things. The bed needed blankets, the bookshelf needed to be filled, the floor boards - even the walls - needed changing and, overall, the place just needed a boost of character. Claire could do the air was much more clear. The sun was descending and she decided it best to meet some of the people Thomas deemed "wonderful."

The scenery was beautiful. Simple yet pleasant. Chicken's bached and she smiled at them, fenced in by a shop just ahead from her farm, and she watched them peck at the ground. Steam flew up from the building across the street, in front of it, the oval iron roof stained from age and treatment. A sign hung from it's hefty door, "Saibara the Blacksmith." Continuing on the brick pathway, a sweet aroma caught in her nose. Grapes draped from dozens of vines and elegant plants grew onto the walls of the place. It was simply beautiful, and Claire decided to see who owned the place.

The inside was even better, warm and heavy with the comfort of cooking food. A petite woman, barely taller and much thinner than Claire, turned from her pot and a light twinkled in her dark eyes, "Oh, you're a new face around here, aren't you! Are you Claire?

Claire was awed that her name was already getting around and she nodded.

"I knew it! Thomas told me about you. He said we had a new neighbor." She grabbed a towel and cleaned off her tiny hands. The woman talked with a purpose and rushed all her words together.

"Uh... what's your name?"

She giggled and came forth, "What is my name? Oh, sorry! My name is Manna. My husband Duke and I run the winery. Nice to meet you." They shook hands and the tiny woman giggled. Her blunt, black hair coming back from behind her ear and Manna motioned for Claire to take a seat. "There's not much around here, but everyone is very kind. Let us know if you need anything."

The door came open and both women glanced over. A built man with slick and combed back black locks carried in a bucket of grapes. He was just as pale as his beautiful wife, and equally as handsome for his age. "Manna, you didn't tell me we had visitors!" He smiled. "Who are you?"

"She's the new farmer!" Manna smiled and brought over a glass of wine for Claire.

"Hmm?" Duke thought. "Oh, you're the new girl at the farm, are you? Duke," he put down the grapes and held his hand out. They shook and he grinned wide, "Strong grip. Pleased to make your acquaintance."

Claire sipped at the wine and savored it's faint purity. "This is amazing," she commented. "So amazing."

Manna giggled again, "Thank you! It's called "_Douceur_" - that's French for _sweetness_."

Duke joined the farmer at the table and the three of them discussed the grapes and wine the couple produced. Duke grew the fruit in the fields while Manna boil, spiced and aged them. The place was named Aja's Winery, which Manna sadly explain was named after Duke and Manna's daughter. Unfortunately, Duke and Aja had gotten into an argument years ago which caused Aja to leave Mineral Town. Neither Duke or Aja will apologize, and she unfortunately hasn't come home. Duke turned soured and solid at the story but turned to chuckle at Claire, "Manna, dear, get young Claire here a bottle of our best."

Both were a bit shocked, "You don't need to, sir-"

"Nonsense! A Welcoming gift. Truly, you've been grand company. Manna usually doesn't get so much attention during the day and I am grateful for your stay."

His wife cheered and skipped out of the shop to fetch the wine in the cellar next door. Duke adjusted his purple vest and took a sip from the dark wine, "Claire, dear, tell me about yourself. We have rambled enough for a day."

She shrugged, "There's not really much to talk about with me, sir."

"No?" He arched a thick, dark brow.

"No."

He snorted, "Husband? Children?"

Claire's features contorted, "None."

"Good!" Duke laughed loudly. "Good. You're young, no need to rush such things. But there are some men around Mineral Town around your age who would, no doubt, enjoy meet-"

"Here it is!" Danced in Manna, lightly placing the dusty bottle in front of Claire. "Tada!"

"Splendid, dear. Did you know Claire has come here all alone?" Duke sipped some more.

Shock hit Manna and her tiny hands held her chest, "All alone? No family or husband or anyone?"

The farmer shrugged, "I guess not-"

"Oh, I know some men in this town who would just LOVE to take a bite out of you, sweetie!" Claire blushed and scowled, but just like Thomas, Manna was oblivious and clapped. "Come to the inn with me, darling! We can introduce you to some. It's sunset and many of the towns people just absolutely adore dinner at the inn!"

The inn was the biggest place in town Manna explained. Doug was the owner and had two children, Ann and Gray. Ann welcomed them warmly at the door, shouting for her father to prep his best for the new comer. The place was sprinkled with all sorts of people who Manna started explaining.

"That one is Basil. He's my best friend, Anna's, husband. Oh, Goddess, if only Anna were here. She is just so darn lush! You'll have to chit-chat with us some time, and Sasha. We tend to gather around the Town Square. And speaking of Sasha, that little fellow in the button down is her husband, he's really sick, though, and..."

Manna rambled. And rambled. And rambled. Claire was never one for gossip, and some things Manna would say just left her cringing.

"And when they found their daughter with Kai in his boat, good Goddess, that man..."

She hadn't even seen Kai and he sent rotten senses in her. Ann came to join them in time with their dishes and was much more to par with Claire's senses.

"Name's Ann."

"Claire."

"I like your overalls."

"I like yours."

"I think blondes are dipshits."

"I think gingers are soulless."

"Wanna be best friends?"

Shrug.

"Sweet."

Manna found the entire situation hilarious, "Oh, you two girls!" Her small hand shielded her mouth as she chewed and laughed. "My, my, Ann, your father just gets better every time we come and eat here! Oh, how I wish Duke had come. But you know Duke, that little stinge!"

Ann shrugged, "I'm getting better than my dad."

"I'm sure you are, dear! You smell like sweet icing - have you been baking?"

The ginger nodded and turned back to Claire, "You cook?"

"Only good enough for myself," Claire answered. "Nothing I'd want to serve people."

"Shame. Come here every night, then, we'll cook and put some meat on your bones. You could look like my dad soon enough."

Manna giggled.

Claire smiled, "Like you're one to speak, lanky. I've got plenty of meat on my bones."

Ann raised a brow and smirked, "Lanky, eh?" Her freckled arm shoved the plates across the table toward Manna, who gasped. The table shook as Ann pounded her elbow down and offered a hand. "Let's see who's lanky, Dipshit."

It's neither classy nor lady-like to arm wrestle in public, but Claire and Ann weren't either of those things. Their hands met and each stared the other down.

"Three."

Claire glared, "Two."

Before anyone could say one, Ann began and Claire stiffened right on her tail. Manna was hesitant at first but couldn't help but smile. Coming down the stairs, a muscular and ginger boy stopped and stared with his icy blue eyes. A UMA hat covered his head and his entire body was covered with a jump suit that had seen it's better days. Ann grunted and was completely losing her grip - and lead. Not that the young woman was weak at all, no. She just wasn't strong and firm like Claire, who remained smirking and still.

"Sorry," She said, and hit Ann's hand against the wood table. Grumbling, the ginger recovered quickly and took everyone's dishes in her arms and headed into the back.

Gray finished his trail down the stairs and grinned as he took a seat at the bar, close to his friend, Cliff.

"Did you see that? She creamed Ann."

The shaky and reserved Cliff shrugged, "I suppose."

"I've never seen her before."

"She's new - she just bought that old farm. I think I heard Manna call her Claire."

Gray watched as his father set down a new set of drinks for each of the boys, "Ann and her will get along just fine." Doug laughed.

Gray turned his attention back to the blonde. She was, without a doubt, different. Even though he watched as she listened to Manna ramble away, he could tell she'd rather be somewhere else. Like Ann, the woman sported overalls but had long sleeve plaid shirt to hide her arms. There were locks of blonde so long, she looked like she was sitting on some. Her skin was pale and, like him, had blue eyes, but dark. Dark like twilight in the sky. Cliff watched Gray gaze continuously and smiled at his friend.

Manna giggled. Again. "Oh, good Goddess! I wouldn't have guessed that there was muscles like that under those baggy clothes."

Claire took the last sip from the glass and chewed on its ice. It sounded just as fierce every munch seeing how she just dominated the ginger.

"Looks never stopped me before."


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you for all the great reviews. They mean a lot! Just like it was requested, here's the second chapter: speedy and done!  
**

* * *

**Chapter Two**

Rick was an obnoxious boy who often lectured his neighbors on the importance of Chicken Awareness. A vegetarian for fifteen years and with the hair like wild chickens feathers, he was a combination of socially awkward and egotistical. He made for an unusual neighbor.

Claire swore and beat the rock again. The gray surface only seemed to scrape and scar underneath the hammer's head and her iron strength. Yet it's body was stable and stubborn. Aside from the lump, though, things had gone surprisingly wonderful: she bought blankets. There were books on her shelf from the local and all too caring librarian Mary - Basil's daughter. Ann had brought her meals when she couldn't keep track of the time while out in the field. The gossip queen, Manna, introduced Claire to wine and gossip gatherings every evening with Anna and Sasha.

Most importantly, her field was alive. Weeds no longer dominated the soil, logs were all removed and all rocks had been smashed.

_Almost_ all of the rocks.

There was a gigantic bolder, larger than a sheep, settled deeply into the soil that refused to move for the Goddess.

"GU-AH!" Claire swung.

_Bam_.

"YAH!"

_Smack_.

"WAH!"

_Bam_.

Frustrated, Claire screamed and tossed the hammer and watched it land with a dull thud on the green grass. She wiped the sweat from her hairline and kicked the rock in a final act of annoyance. A clearing throat made Claire look up. Rick stood there, hands deep in pockets and foot tapping.

"What?"

Rick frowned, "Why are you trying to break that enormous thing?"

"It's in my way, Chicken boy."

"I realize that," Rick picked up the hammer and groaned at its weight. So maybe it wasn't as light as he thought, "But that rock is bigger than you are. You can't possibly break that."

Wrinkles formed between her pushed brows, "Then what do you suggest I do, huh?"

Rick shrugged, "Don't know. But screaming like a crazy man won't help."

Claire came over and snatched the hammer back. Rick took the time to look at her up close as her thoughts focused on the tools construction. Her blonde hair was loosely up and weakening from the work, and her lightly tanning skin was glistening with sweat from the warm day. Her eyes, Rick decided, were his favorite feature. He'd never seen eyes so mysterious. Sure he'd seen blue eyes, lots of people had them. But he'd never seen blue eyes so... unblue. They made him wonder how those eyes looked back at him...

"Rick!"

"What?" He blinked once. Twice.

"The hammer. Answer me."

He bit his lip, "You were saying something?"

"Rot in soil, you lump of chicken feed."

Claire stepped aside the Chicken Chaser and hung the hammer over her boney shoulder. Rick stood still on her farm and watched the woman strut with purpose for the blacksmith.

"O-okay! I'll, uh, talk to you later... Claire..."

The door swung open with a smooth sound and a few clouds of smoke rolled for freedom. Her lungs wheezed for a moment and she took her way in, shielding above her eyes and curiously searching for the problem. Someone shouted and another bickered back: both masculine voices.

"Damn you, you foolish boy!"

"It was your fault - you tripped me!"

"Bunch of slander!"

Some movement happened and she heard the older man coughing. A breeze swept through and Claire assumed a window had been opened. Figures began to appear.

The outline of a hunched back man hobbled over to the counter, mumbles of stress and disappointment that cursed away the other man. And in short time, the steam thinned out well and it was clear to notice the rest of his features. Bending over behind the counter was a small old man with frosty white hair and a beard to match its length. Bushes of hair covered above his thin eyes, Claire noticed, as he came back up. They grew in size once realizing her presence.

"Miss! Goddess with grief, I hadn't noticed you here!"

His voice reminded Claire of a heavy smoker, yet aged because of sheer age. "I only just got here," She lied.

"You'll have to excuse my rather foolish grandson for causing this wreck."

"_Me_? _Foolish_? You're the one who-"

"Gray!" He barked. "Mind your manners in presence of a lady!" The other man in back walked forward, waving the smoke away as he came forward. Their eyes locked and it felt like someone had hit Gray straight in the lungs.

So it was this girl.

Claire noticed his stare on her and she returned it with curiosity. From afar, she'd noticed Gray before when eating dinner at the Inn with Ann. Like his sister, they shared ginger hair and pale skin. He was taller - his shoulders to Claire's head, and his body was lean and muscular, even behind the work suit.

"Sorry."

The old man huffed and turned his attention back to Claire, "My apologies, miss. How can we help you?"

She stiffened and rolled the hammer off her shoulders, "This. I'm not sure what the problem is."

Saibara analyzed the tool and arced a brow, "Old and a bit underdeveloped, is all."

"That's my problem," Claire started. "There's this gigantic rock in my field, and I'm trying to farm, but it's too much in the way. I need a better hammer, I think."

"Farm? You mean to say you're the young new lass taking over that place that my granddaughter has spoken about?"

Claire shrugged.

He lightly grinned, "I've heard good things about you. Pleasure to meet you..."

"Claire."

"Claire. I'm Saibara, the owner of this 'smith. Gray is my grandson, my apprentice," Saibara turned stiff to the boy. "My poorly mannered apprentice."

Gray clenched both hands in his pockets and bit his tongue to avoid saying anything.

"Great to meet you guys. But do you think I could upgrade this old hammer?"

Saibara frowned, "It's a bit too aged for its time, Claire. The handle is weak and rigid, and the head isn't worth much of a save, either."

"Anything better, then?"

Gray took his hat off to scratch his scalp and promptly placed it back on, "Yeah, there's a good silver headed one in the back for a few hundred G."

The price made her a bit stiff, but so far, she'd spent much less money than expected and obliged to the pricing. The hammer was much nicer in feel to the skin and shined nice in the dim lighting. Hope restored and anxious to try out her new buy, Claire beamed. "Thank you!"

"Take my grandson with you, would ya? This place is a mess and he needs to learn some respect and help you out with the boulder."

Claire looked over to Gray, who was still brow sunken and stiff. All he did was nod and follow the woman on the way out. Once the door shut, Claire gazed into his cold eyes. "You really don't need to."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Gray peered down at the woman and noticed her dirty skin, "Nah."

"Nah?"

"Nah. I'll come and see this _gigantic_ rock."

They walked, "It _is_ gigantic. Rick even said so."

He snorted, "Rick, yeah. What a great example for a man."

Claire chuckled and patted his strong shoulder. Though she agreed wholeheartedly, they both stopped and stared at the rock once they reached her place. "See."

Gray snorted again, "Yeah, okay. Large. Not gigantic. I've crushed bigger things with weaker tools."

Claire scowled, "Oh, really, hot-shot? Alright, go ahead. Do something," She shoved the hammer into his arms. "Put bite to your bark."

The two stared at one another until her eyes hit him too hard, giving a reluctant sigh and heading over to the stone. It was deep in the ground and he took a stance, digging his feet slightly in to be stable. The hammer over head, he took a final glance at the farmer, who was waiting with arms crossed. The impact was loud - and spot on. A strange cracking noise echoed on, like an iceberg tearing apart. Gray kicked the stone and watched it fall into much smaller rocks and grinned with satisfaction. He looked up and tipped the bill of his UMA hat towards her.

Claire's smile was so perfect.

Gray didn't see much of Claire after that day in the next week.

There was a dinner or two when she came to the Inn with Ann or the gossiping housewives. Or when he ate lunch outside the blacksmith's to casually observe the farms slow transformation. They were all distance admiration outings, curiosity sparked in his mind. Cliff, the quiet boy who was the almost-but-not-really-official-boyfriend of Ann, was one of the few who noticed his stares at her.

The farmer was mostly at hard work with her place, though. So being social wasn't always the first choice in her schedule. From a few rumors, spread by Manna who often visited her farm to drop off a few snacks or goodies, or to help decorate the home while the construction worker, Gotz, repaired her house, the townsfolk knew she was giving heavy hope to that property.

Sun-drenched Farm, she called it.

Manna, Anna and Sasha all whispered and giggled on their way to the farm mid-afternoon in hopes to surprise young Claire from her weeks of nonstop work. Some girly girl time would do her well, they decided.

"I heard Cliff and Ann are getting really hot!" Anna smiled.

Manna scoffed, "Oh, that's such old news! The real hot stuff is Zack and that Lillia. I've seen her slip into her house more than once, now."

"Scandalous!" Sasha gasped.

"And he's more than hated by her boy."

"How sad."

Manna nodded, "And I also hear Ellen might be needing extra medical attention, soon."

"Medical attention, eh?" Sasha puckered her lips up. "I wouldn't mind some extra medical attention from that doctor."

All three giggled and Anna turned to whisper something to Sasha. She blushed deeply, "No, did she really?"

Anna nodded, "Manna told me."

"Well. I never thought Elli would... do... my, my. She's sure grown up since I last remember. But I suppose spending so much time in that clinic, I should have expected..."

They all agreed in synchronized head bobbing. Approaching the farm, all of the woman heard voices. Anna raised a perfectly thin eyebrow and turned to Manna, who smiled in wonder. It wasn't just any two voices - it was Claire's voice and a _man's_. The three squealed and shushed furiously, trying to quietly creep forward and hide.

"Let's go through Lillia's property."

"But I am wearing my new shoes!"

"Shhh!"

"But," Sasha whispered. "My shoes. Prada. Silver buckles."

"Oh, hush. Jeff will buy you another new pair."

Each of the women tip-toed across the property. The chickens bached wild at them, and two desperately tried shushing the animals, but finally gave up and jumped the fence and landed in the bushes. Anna crawled first and listened to Sasha complain, "Oh, my dress! Ah! My stockings... Ooh! The things I do for some juicy talks!"

The beautiful Anna peeked around the corner, the only one who could see the two: Claire and ... _two_ men.

Gray and Rick.

"There's two boys!"

"Two?"

"Who?"

"Two! Gray and Rick!"

The other two gasped and Anna shushed them. They listened.

"-doesn't really matter."

"But it _does_."

"How, in any manner, does it matter - or even concern you?" Gray raised a brow at Rick. The chicken farmer was arm-crossed and glaring.

"Those mines are dangerous."

Gray had one hand fly up, "That's why I'm going!"

"You can't stop danger!"

Claire turned and leaned her forehead against Gray's arm, "Just _go_, Rick."

"No!" He cried. "You can't go in those mines. You've never mined before!"

"That's why she is bringing _me_ along, chicken chaser!"

Rick stomped forward and shoved a finger at his chest, "And _you_ aren't the safest of people in this town!"

Sasha gasped and Manna tried peeking past Anna with little avail.

Gray rolled his eyes and Claire pulled Gray away by the elbow. Rick looked all too petite beside the two, even though Claire was petite herself at first glance. The boy stood helpless and he watched the two walk away without such as another glance in his direction.

"Oh my Goddess, let me see!" Sasha trampled on top of the girls and, and just like that, they all came tumbling out. Rick yelped and turned to look at them, hand slapped on his chest with fright.

"What the..."

"Run!" All of the woman scrambled together and dragged up each other in seconds, grabbing their dresses in handfuls and blasting out of there.

That night, the Inn was very busy. Ann was rushing to serve everyone, her father in the back preparing food quickly. Usually Fridays were busiest, but tonight was ridiculous. A group of people from Forget-Me-Not-Valley were just in for dinner and heading back to the boat to finish their journey to Sunshine Islands. Ann noticed Cliff every once in a while and would smile sympathetically. Karen, Sasha and Jeff's daughter, was drunk already and leaning onto Rick. Popuri was eating noodles endlessly, weeping over her longing of Kai.

"Where's my bro?"

Cliff shrugged when Ann passed more drinks along. "He said he'd go mining."

"For this long? But I need help!"

Cliff shrugged and said nothing more.

Ann sighed and went back into the kitchen with a few dirty plates, "The crowd's dying down."

"Good, it's been a long, long night. You tired already, kiddo?"

She sighed and nodded, going to sit by the counter next to where her dad was preparing some desserts. "Cliff's beat, too."

"You've done well. We'll close soon, don't worry. Now, here," Doug plated the last things. "Take these out there."

Upon passing out the desserts, Ann finally smiled to the last customer and leaned on Cliff in the back corner.

In the Blacksmiths, Gray and Claire poured out their rucksacks. Many different colors sparkled and danced with the dim light and Saibara watched them from the corner, sitting on the couch and reading a novel.

"Good pick, it seems." He observed.

"I think so, too. We got all the way down to the tenth floor in just a few hours."

Claire moaned and slouched against the wall, "I think my muscles are dead."

Gray chuckled, "It wasn't that much," He rolled his shoulders still, feeling the tiny ache and burn in his body. It had been an amazing day: he'd been away from his grandpa, away from the shop, and relaxed. Claire seemed to mold really well against his personality - but that didn't mean they didn't have their arguments throughout the day. Especially when Rick had trolled in and demanded where he was taking her.

"I like," Claire twirled a stone between her fingers. "This one."

"Blue Topaz."

"Yeah."

"Yep."

"Yeah..."

"Claire?"

"Yeah?"

Gray turned his head to her and patted her head, "You smell bad."

"And you smell like roses with happiness."

He smirked, "Do you ever shower?"

Claire slapped his arm, "Sorry - I actually _do my job_."

Saibara got a kick from the one and snorted with amusement. Gray wasn't amused in the slightest, "Who are you to judge, Goldie?"

"Goldie?" Claire rolled her eyes.

"I could say bad things."

It was Claire's turn to snort, "Please. Do."

"Filthy Farmer."

"Slacking 'Smith," she retorted.

"Barn animal."

"Metal head."

"Hay Hair."

"Dull drill."

Gray just shook his head and leaned his head against the wall, "Alright, Blondie, you've got me beat."

"I know."

"Take your jewels and haul you ass out of-"

"Gray!" Snapped the old man. Gray had forgotten he was here. "Mind your manners, young man!"

Claire smirked, "Yeah, act like a _gentleman_, Gray."

He wanted to snap back at her, he wanted to shove her out of here. But her smile - that half-smile so perfect around those peachy lips - only left him staring. "I hate you."

"Gray!"

Claire got up smiled at him. "You're such a charmer, asshat."

"UMA means-"

"I know my animals. But you wear it, so it means _ass_," She leaned over and quickly snatched the worn hat off of his head. He suddenly became very irritated.

"Give that back."

"Ya know," She began. "You can keep the jewels," Claire patted the hat down on her head. "I'll just keep this."


	3. Chapter 3

**Oh, goodness. You're all such magnificent readers. Truly, every review is beyond squeal-worthy.**

* * *

**Chapter Three**

"Please look pretty," Manna begged. "Please!"

"No."

"But it's my _birthday_!"

"No."

Manna pouted and put both hands on her narrow hips, stomping on the soil, "Claire!"

"Manna," Claire said, pulling out another potato and rolling it into the basket. There were crops blossoming all about the fair sized field: potatoes and turnips shared half of the land while cucumber vines covered the other half.

"Cla-a-a-a-ire!" Manna groaned. "Ple-e-e-e-ease!"

"Ma-a-a-ana," Claire mocked. "Ple-e-e-e-ease leave me alone."

The woman moaned, "Claire, Duke is throwing me the party at the Inn, and you're coming. No exceptions!"

Claire sighed deeply and stood up, brushing off her knees, "I _will_ come, Great Goddess, Manna-"

"Watch your language!"

She sighed, "Sorry, _mom_."

Manna smiled, "But you'll come. In a dress! And pretty, washed hair with some make-up and-"

"Woah!" Her hands flew up. "No. No, no, no. That is where I draw the line. I will come and look... nice. That's all I can promise."

"In a dress."

"Maybe."

Manna beamed, "With pretty hair."

"Yeah, sure."

The petite woman giggled and squealed, dancing in her spot, "I can help you get ready right now before I leave."

"Uh..." Claire scratched her head. "It's four hours before the party even begins."

Manna innocently blinked, stared, and blinked again, seeing nothing flawed in her argument.

"You... you don't _actually_ plan to take that long getting ready, do you?" Panic hit Claire with how feminine Manna could actually be. Manna nodded with glee and pulled Claire by the wrist as she whisked them off and to the winery. Upon opening the door and rushing to their upper floor, utter and complete regret flooded her skin. It smelled so girly inside, she could swear the air was tinted pink. Sasha and Anna were gossiping wildly in the corner as usual, both sporting curlers and only silky under-dresses. Duke peeked from the bottom of the stairwell and shot Claire a silent, _We-all-have-to-take-one-for-the-team-eventaully_ face and waved his way out, papers in hand.

"And he didn't even care!"

Sasha gasped, "Not at all?"

"Not at all! All he did was pack his bags and-" Anna stopped mid rant and noticed Manna with Claire. "Manna! You actually brought back our little diamond!"

Claire bit the inside of her cheek.

The tiny blunt haired woman skipped over and was smiling very brightly, joining the other two and turned them towards Claire. "Not quite a diamond, _yet_."

"A coal," Commented Anna.

"But," Manna squealed.

"We can make her a diamond!" Sasha clapped and got up to drag the farmer over for a seat.

"Sit."

Claire complied.

"Oh, the possibilities," Sasha gazed wondrously and all of them gathered around. So this is what it's like, Claire assumed, to be surrounded by a pack of hungry lions and be the all-too-knowing prey. "Take this Goddess-awful hat off."

Anna picked it up and threw it behind her. Gray's cap.

Manna picked up a brush in one hand and a curling iron in the other. Anna grabbed lipstick and powder. Sasha grabbed a nail-filer and polish. Sinister smiles etched on each of their faces.

"Please. Give me mercy."

Doug was with Duke at the inn, cooped up in the corner with their coffees and newspapers. Ann was putting up dozens of banisters while Cliff held the ladder. Karen was talking at the bar with Rick, already starting on the drinks. She squished her thin eyebrows together and complained, "Why are we here?"

"It's Manna's birthday, Karen," Rick explained.

"I don't like Manna."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

She sighed and got up, announcing her need for the bathroom and left for it. Rick sat alone and laid his head against the bar top, clutching his water tight. Doug chuckled and spoke to Duke, "Poor lad doesn't look too bright today."

"Ah, whatever's bothering him, he'll get over it."

Doug nodded, "True."

"I wonder what the girls are doing to poor, little Claire," Duke chuckled, mostly to himself. Doug raised an eyebrow and he explained, "When Manna came back, she was dragging Claire in and up to her room with the ladies. Didn't seem the most... excited of sorts."

Doug laughed this time, "Ah, Claire. Yeah," He took a sip from his mug. "Not the most feminine of females. Like Ann in some ways... that always worries me. If women like them will have a hard time marrying."

Doug always worried for his daughter. She was outspoken and eccentric, wild and tough. Those weren't always key features in typical women.

"Ann's got that Cliff boy," Duke acknowledged, nodding at Cliff. "They seem to click real' well."

"They do, they do."

At the winery, top floor, Claire begged for an open window. It wasn't the fresh air she wanted - Claire wanted an escape.

"Oh, Sasha! You do the best hair!" Manna clapped with excitement and fluffed her own locks. They were in large curls that shined beautifully in the light, which went well with her floor length midnight dress that draped along her tiny curves perfectly. Sasha sported a blue gown, and Anna a cream one that complimented her skin beyond words. Each of them looked like Goddesses, queens that belonged on thrones and ruling over gracious meadows and sparkling seas.

Anna and Sasha went down the stairs first, and Manna smiled small at Claire, who stood uncomfortable in her dress.

"You're really beautiful, Claire."

"Uh..." She shifted uncomfortably and hugged herself tighter. "Sure. Thanks."

"Oh, thank you!" She ran up and hugged the tomboy, who awkwardly returned the embrace. "You're so wonderful!"

Gossip ensued downstairs, where all of the women eventually waited to pass the time.

"_I_ think they'll get married."

Sasha scowled, "I don't know. I always imagined my Karen with a... manly man."

Manna shrugged, and Claire rolled her eyes, "He's not that bad. He can be caring, I guess."

"Speaking of Rick..." Anna turned to the gussied up blonde. "We heard a little bird say he was a bit... _protective_ over you the other day."

All three laughed.

Claire scowled, "Where do you guys even hear this stuff? Do you have cameras set up all over this town?"

They all waited patiently for an answer.

"Uh... I don't know?"

They still stared, and she gulped. "Well," Manna grinned. "How long were you with you Gray?"

"What did you two do?"

"Did you look at his butt?"

"Oh, does he have a nice butt?"

"He has such _nice_ arms. I couldn't _imagine_ why he wouldn't!"

"I bet _he's_ looked at _her_ butt!"

"Scandalous!"

"Have you made any more plans?"

"Is he into you?"

"Is he coming tonight?"

Manna gasped, "He is!"

"Do you think he'll dance with her at the party tonight?"

Universal giggles and squealing came from all over the table, "Manna! Do you have a slow dancing song?"

"Eek!" She and the other ladies got up and grabbed handfuls of their gowns. "Let's go to the inn! The sooner the better!" And all three housewives skipped out of the house, while Claire stayed dumbfounded at what just happened. Maybe, Claire decided, if she ran fast enough, she could get the next boat out of here.

With a long sigh and regret twisted in her breathing, Claire stood up and slowly walked out. She tried focusing on other things aside from how unbearably uncomfortable she was. The potatoes weren't fully harvested and cleaned off, so she hoped Zack would understand. And soon enough, the cucumber vines would be fully aged and blossoming before she'd know it.

Claire tried shoving her hand in the overall pockets, but pouted when realizing she wasn't in overalls anymore. The dress waved with the subtle wind and it brought complete unease to her head. What if the wind blew _too_ hard? Or she fell over in a crowd? Or if toilet paper got caught in her underwear? Claire cursed the women.

It was dark, and shadows cast upon the ground.

The tomboy had already walked around the town two times over, had counted the bricks in the ground and finally sat down on the bench outside the inn. Outside, she could hear people conversing loudly and violins creeping in. A sick feeling caught in her stomach. There was no way, Claire knew, she'd ever go out in public looking like this. It was embarrassing.

"You look so beautiful."

Claire looked up and wondered who was beautiful. Rick stood at the door of the inn, leaning against it and pursing his lips. She hadn't noticed him until just now.

"Who?"

"You," He chuckled. "You, of course you."

Color hit her cheeks and she was grateful for the fallen sun. "Shut up, Chicken boy, or I'll shove you head first into my feed mill."

"Hey, hey," He held up both hands, "I wasn't being sarcastic or anything. Promise."

Sighing, she slouched further in the bench and watched Rick make his way over and take a seat.

"Space."

"Right," Rick scooted away and sunk his face between both hands. "Why aren't you in there?"

She glared, "Because."

He nodded, "Right. Dress. Not your thing, I'm guessing?" She shook her head and he grinned. "You're too negative. It's great, really. And is that... is that _lipstick_?"

"Why?" Claire twisted towards him with anger. "Are you looking, chickenshit?"

"No, no!" His hands waved. "I-I wasn't... looking..."

Uncomfortable silence hit them and he watched Claire stare at the stars.

"Why are _you_ out here, anyway?"

It was Rick's turn to exercise his lungs with a heavy sigh, "I don't know."

"Yes, you do."

"Yeah... I do. I just..." He shrugged. "It's tough loving a drunk."

Claire snorted and even let out a laugh, "You think that's the tough part about that girl?"

Rick glared.

"Sorry. But, really, why do you put up with her shit? She tears you down and you just let her. I've only been here for a few weeks and I can already see that."

"That's what love is," Rick glanced up at the night sky. "Love is being there for her because no one else will be. I have to be there for her. She's attractive and more worth than I could ever be. And I love her, ya know?"

"No, I don't _know_. That's such _bull_," Claire snorted, and slapped his arm. "Rick, you are so naive."

"How?"

"Make up only goes skin deep. You don't have to deal with anything she does. You can do way better."

Rick smiled small, hopeful, "Like... you?"

"I'd rather shove my own head in the feed mill."

"Right."

"Sometimes..." Claire huffed and sat up, gripping the edge of the wooden seat. "Sometimes, people can't learn lessons on their own. They need to teach themselves the hard way before they realize something's wrong. It's hurting more than just her, and-"

The inn door opened and out came Stu, Elli's very young brother, the village's mischief maker, in the arms of Gray. Everyone glanced curiously at each other.

"What are you two doing out here?"

"Stuff. Why the kid?"

He shrugged and Stu continued to suck his thumb, "Stu fell asleep. Since Elli didn't want to take him home, and I sure as hell didn't want to be there any longer, I offered to take the kiddo home."

"I'll join you."

Claire stood up and walked over to his side, giving a final look to Rick, "Remember what I said, Chicken chaser."

He nodded slowly and watched the two walk away. Maybe he couldn't be happy with Karen.

Manna smiled from the Inn's old window and closed the curtain, going away from her creeping and back to her party.

The night was cooling down and both walked in comfortable silence, listening to Stu's heavy breathing. The stars were bright and held her attention for a few minutes. Gray nodded at Claire when they reached Ellen's house in the north of town, and ducked inside. Claire waited outside and let her mind wonder until he quickly slipped back out with an apple in hand.

"Old people always give out fruit."

Claire shrugged, "Fruit is go-"

"Woah."

The blonde stood and crocked a brow at him, "What?"

"Is that a _dress_?"

"Let's not discuss this."

"No, no, no. Let's _definitely_ discuss the pretty little twirl-girl!" Gray cracked up and her nostrils flared. "A dress? Seriously? This has to be a good tale."

Her glare intensified and she felt more exposed than she had felt before, "Do me a favor, asshat, and jump into liquid metal so I can use you as a hammer and pound your _skull_ against everything."

"Asshat, eh? Where _is_ my hat?"

"The winery."

Gray and Claire started walking again, "Winery?"

"I was still wearing it when Manna came over and dragged me there. And proceeded to beat, slaughter and strip my sanity away."

"Ah," Gray looked at her. "So that explains why you look like this."

Claire frowned, "I feel gross."

"You don't look gross."

Her blush returned and silence stole their conversation. Gray didn't care much at all for the party, but his grandfather and sister had nagged him to come. It sucked, to say the least, because it was packed and filled with drunks and middle aged adults. It was better now, out in the night and teasing Claire. But she did look great, he decided. Like a woman. Her arms and legs weren't covered and he even got a glance at her curves when she stood in the streetlight before.

Maybe she was gorgeous tonight, and maybe all this did bring out the woman in her. It was obvious how uncomfortable she was, though, and it made him somewhat miss her overalls and baggy shirts - when she didn't look so nimble.

Like Claire waited outside of Ellen's, Gray waited outside of Aja's for her to retrieve the belongings and his hat. Before he knew it, she was back out and dressed in her usual attire, his hat on her head and many curls popped out and hugged down her waist.

Yes.

_That _was beautiful.

"Give me that back."

"No," Claire pushed him. "I gave you prized jewels for this thing."

"But," Gray reached over to snatch and failed miserably. "I never agreed to that."

"You didn't need to."

"That's how a deal works."

"It takes two brains to make a deal."

"You... you know what?" Gray was flustered and rolled his eyes. "Maybe you do deserve that - you're somehow more of an asshole than I am."

She chuckled and they both casually strolled where ever their feet took them. It was upon rare occasion that the grumpy blacksmith's apprentice got out in the town and made friends - let alone conversations. There wasn't much to see or any interesting people to talk to, he considered, and it was strange to be spending a late twilight with the farmer who was both amazing and horrid in his eyes. He loved her work ethic, the way she insulted Rick - Hell, even the way she insulted _him_ - and how they just molded. Claire didn't pester and ask for questions, didn't go on forever about womanly things or problems in the world.

Heat coursed in more than just her cheeks - it coursed through her flesh as his hand wrapped around her hip opposite to him.

Eventually, both of them stopped at her farm and gazed upon the field. The brown basket with vegetables still sat in the dirt where a half line of potatoes were missing from the beginning harvest. Gray took time to admire the farm and waited as Claire poured the harvest in with multiple thuds to the shipping crate. They stood, several feet apart, and stared.

"Tell Ann to bring me ribs tomorrow."

He snorted, "What, no salad for our little twirl-girl?"

"That whole bashing things with your skull option still seems very appealing."

Gray smiled, "I'll see you around, Claire."

As the man turned and made his way out, a devious grin danced it's way onto her face.

He did have a nice butt.


	4. Chapter 4

**Honestly, these reviews are driving me insane with the awesomeness. I read and take all of them to heart to inscribe ideas into the chapters. Thank you so much, for every single one of them! This certainly isn't my best, but life has been extraordinarily tough on me this month and I just needed to vent through my characters. I apologize sincerely in advance.  
**

* * *

**Chapter Four**

Ann did, indeed, bring ribs for lunch the next afternoon. Claire was ultimately focused on her harvest and plantation. The ginger took time to admire the property. Things were really alive, like loneliness never possessed it's roots.

"Hey! Dipshit!"

Claire looked up and smiled wide at Ann, putting down her tool and strolling over.

"Hey, Ann. How's it going?" Claire took off her gloves and leaned on the hoe.

She shrugged, "Good, things are things."

They went into her home, which had transformed since the first day thanks to Gotz and Manna. Claire washed up and joined Ann for the food. They talked about the party, Cliff's growing confidence, Doug and the Inn.

"We're closed today," Ann explained. "The horse festival is in town and Old Man Barley is hosting it."

"Horse Festival?"

She nodded, taking another large bite, "Yeah, they race. You can place bets and get prizes if your horse wins. It's pretty fun, actually, seeing all of them race."

"I want to go," Claire commented.

Ann grinned and agreed that they'd go together. The farmer agreed that, today, she'd worked enough, seeing how she had already harvested the potatoes and turnips clean and planted the a new, and last, batch of them for spring crops. The ribs were phenomenal, as usual, and both women decided to go out in the town for a travel.

"Some days, it gets way too stressful at the Inn. Gray doesn't work there, and since mom passed, it's hard to work so much and not have time. Ya know?"

"Yeah," Claire nodded. "I know."

"You do, don't you? You don't really get out much."

Claire rolled both midnight eyes, "I do, too."

"Okay, really? Three housewives and my brother? Yeah, Claire. Slow your roll - you're getting wild!" She raised both hands to enhance her sarcasm.

Claire shrugged, "And Rick."

"Oooh, watch out! We got a badass over here!" Ann shouted at the top of her lungs and a few squirrels ran off. She couldn't help but laugh at that one and gave Ann a shoulder nudge. Turning in circles and finally heading towards the Chicken shop, Ann suggested they meet Barley. His place was called Yodel Farm, and before entering, the ginger gave a strict explanation. Barley is a very old grandfather, and has tried his best to raise his granddaughter after she was abandoned by his own daughter, Joanna. Joanna left Mineral Town, but decided not to take May with her. Barley and May both eagerly await Joanna's return.

Claire nodded, understanding, and entered with Ann. Barley was a tiny, tiny old, bald man with a beard down to his belly. He squinted very hard and grinned widely, a few teeth missing from his smile.

"Ann!"

"Hi, Mr. Barley!"

She went to embrace the elder and brought Claire forward.

"Why, who is this young lass?" Barley got close to Claire, his weak eyes trying to observe the stranger.

"My name's Claire, sir."

"Claire... Claire... where have I heard that name before?"

Ann smiled, "She's the new farmer down the trail."

His weak lungs let out a happy note of realization, taking her hand in both of his and greeting her properly. "Truly a pleasure to finally meet the miss."

A small voice yelled from the top of the stairs, "Pa! Pa! C'mere!"

Each of the adults exchanged a look and Barley scooted his way up the stairs, acknowledging the other two to follow with his wooden cane. The stairs creaked under their feet and all of them gathered in the room. A small girl, May, jumped on a tiny bed while both pigtails bounced wildly with her, "Pa! Hanna keeps making sad noises."

"Sad noises?"

On cue, an old dog whimpered from the corner and Claire noticed her overly swollen abdomen. The dog was pregnant. Barley waddled his way over and slowly bent down to feel the animal's furry forehead. "Seems like Hanna is ready for her puppies."

"Puppies!" The child clapped. She stopped bouncing, hopped off and walked up to Claire. "My doggy is having puppies and I've been waiting for sixty-five days for them."

Claire smiled, "Sixty-five, eh?"

May nodded, "Who are you?"

"My name's Claire. What's yours?"

"May. M-A-Y. Do you want one of my puppies?"

Barley got back up with many bones wheezing in protest, "That's a fabulous idea, sugarplum! Claire, dearest, I insist you have a puppy. Dogs are good companions for a farm!"

The farmer looked over to Ann, who nodded furiously in agreement. "I, mean, yeah, sure, I'll purchase-"

"No, no, child!" Barley patted his furry companion. "A gift. From May and I. I'll bring you one bright and early tomorrow!"

A knock came at the door bellow and Ann rushed down to get it. Barley patted the farmer on her small shoulder, "How's that farm going?"

"Wonderful, really."

He nodded, "Good, good. I sell sheep and cows, and I'd be delighted to know you'll have some eventually. And," He coughed. "I'm also starting to breed horses. It's tough, though, having such a small property. They can't always get a full run in."

Claire nodded, understanding.

"Speaking of horses, are you going to my festival today?"

"With Ann," Claire declared.

He smiled wider, teeth missing, and Ann ran back up. "Stu and Carter are here for May."

The little girl ran and quickly hugged her grandfather, giving a kiss goodbye and looking at Claire one last time on the stairs, "Will you be my friend?"

"Of course."

May beamed and finished her stampede down the stairs.

Karen, Popuri and Mary were three woman the same age as Claire and Ann. But they were about as far away from similar as possible. Karen was a dirty blonde with bleached bangs, always wearing very skimpy shorts and a small top. Her catlike eyes were dark and heavily coated with layers of make up, just as the rest of her face was. She was the daughter of Sasha and wealthy Jeff, the cream of the crop.

Popuri was very much a mama's girl and centered her philosophies around true love. She was convinced that she and Kai were meant to be by first sight, that the Goddess designed him for her. Her cotton candy hair was always brushed back, and face brushed with warm tones and a long, very feminine dress covered her thin figure.

Mary was silent. She didn't much fit in with the two beauts, but they talked to her and she seemed to somehow mold in. Her tiny frame was buried beneath a long white top and blue dress, her face covered by large glasses. She was intelligent. Beyond the wits of her other friends and preferred spending days alone, buried in piles of books that her parents so lovingly gave her.

The three of them headed towards the Town Square, Karen on her newest rant about how Rick was acting so strangely. He was spending less and less time with her, and it was more annoying than meaningful. Popuri encouraged her to do better.

"Yeah, I know, but he's just so cute."

"He's really, like, not."

Karen rolled her eyes, "Totally is."

It smelled like a barn when they arrived, and noticed the large crowd. Mary quickly saw Won, a foreign trader who was wonderful at finding rare novels and making her feel beautiful, and rushed over to him. Karen stuck with her best friend and wondered around, swooning a snow cone from a vender and then leaning against a bench.

"This place wreaks."

Popuri's small features were contorted, "Oh, smells like farm!"

She nodded and glanced around, hoping to spot Rick.

"...And she left with him!"

"Did she really? Oh, fantastic!"

"We'll have to ask her what they did!"

Giggles spurred.

Karen glanced over and noticed her mom gossiping with her buddies. "Po?"

"Yeah?"

"Who's mom talking about?"

Popuri stayed silent and leaned in to get a better listen. She smiled with joy, "Sounds like your mom said Claire."

"Who's _Claire_?"

"The new farmer," She adjusted her dress and hair. "She's really nice, and Rick likes going over to help."

"_Help_? What sort of _help_?"

The girl scoffed, "Oh, seriously. Don't worry."

Karen shot up immediately, noticing her chicken boy in the crowd. Many people huffed and groaned an "Excuse you, miss" when she shoved her way past the hoard. Across from her boyfriend was a bright blonde with a few other people: Gray, Ann, Saibara and Barley. They all seemed to be conversing well when she made her way in the circle, grabbed his hand and tipped her head at Claire.

"Who are you?"

She raised a brow and looked over the new comer. Already, without even meeting her, she knew the woman all too well, "Claire."

"Great. Claire," Karen squeezed his hand tighter. "Let's go, Rick."

"But I'm talking to-"

"Me. You're talking to me."

"I don't think he was," Claire butt in. Ann stood protectively behind Claire. Karen glanced back over and shot a fierce glare, a silent warning telling the farmer to stay in her place. But Rick was Claire's friend, too, and she wasn't about to let him be miserable for another night. She may be unbearably annoyed with his attitude and desperation, but he was still her friend.

"Rick. Let's go."

"I..." He looked from Karen's angry eyes to Gray's, then finally Claire. The look of confidence was so apparent in her features that his own stance straightened. "I think I'll stay over here."

The two elderly men exchanged a glance and waddled away, a few bones cracking on the way. Saibara mumbled, "I sometimes thank the Goddess for being an old man." Barley agreed with a quick bob.

"He's not a child," Claire continued. "He can make his own decisions."

"Yeah, Rick doesn't need you babying him all over," Ann folded bare arms across her chest.

The fiery woman looked over Claire and couldn't help but be intimidated by her boyish attire and stance. She could see defined muscle where he sleeves were rolled up and the calm, yet ferocious look beaming from her posture. An all too familiar UMA hat posed on her head, "Claire."

"Karen."

Her jaw clenched and she looked at Rick, "We'll talk later."

And then it was calm again. Karen left and Rick was left shaking like a leaf, both thankful and regretting his decision. "Rick, it'll be okay, bro."

He nodded at Claire and blinked furiously. He feared what Karen would say to him later, because he loved her to extents he wasn't sure about and didn't feel comfortable about not knowing what their future would be.

"Do you need to talk?" He looked up at Claire and noticed those beautiful darkened eyes analyzing him. He shook his head, unable to speak. "Go find your mom, then. She'll stay with you."

They boy nodded quick and hugged Claire. Her body froze under the contact and she awkwardly patted his back. "It'll, uh, be okay?"

Ann cooed Rick and took him away, spending the rest of the time with her lover, Cliff.

Then it was just Claire and Gray again. He took her hand and they made their way to the betting table. The night got better from there: Gray and Claire placed bets on the same horse in yellow and crumbled the way the hooves beat furiously in the dirt roads caused a stir in his veins, blood to run quick and adrenaline to pump. She loved animals unconditionally.

Mary and Won had talked to them later, and Ann joined them for dinner with Cliff at a picnic table for dinner.

"You two are such assholes."

Gray grinned, "You're just a sore loser."

"We got second, we're not losers," Cliff commented. They bet on the blue team, which was 1.05 seconds behind their horse. Ann sipped at her drink and leaned on him.

"That's right. And we still got tokens."

"Maybe next year Claire will race if she gets her own horse," Cliff suggested. Ann nodded, mouth full and Claire beamed at the thought of how wild that feeling would be, how alive she'd feel planted on a horses back.

Gray was on his fourth cob of corn and Ann teased him, "Slow down or you'll turn into corn."

"It's _baked corn_, Ann."

Claire raised her brow, "And?"

"Baked corn is his favorite," Ann explained. "Always been that way. You should probably drag him away before he eats the entire town."

So she did.

Time passed and the moon climbed its way up the sky. Villagers payed their debts or collected the tokens. Prizes would be shelved soon in exchange for these tokens, Gray explained to her. She nodded and grew distant. The day wore her out, everything was wearing her out. A long rest was definitely needed.

"Gray, I'm pooped."

"Yeah? 'Cause you look like shit, too. "

"Why am I even friends with you?"

Gray smirked and squeezed her hand, "Because you win tokens when I'm around."

"Sure."

Both waited as the small selection of gifts were placed on shelves for show. Nothing appealing, in all honesty. Things men would get their wives as mercy gifts: perfume, dresses, lotions, manicure sets.

"This is all crap stuff," Claire rolled her eyes. "Yeah. So much for _tokens and friendship_."

He shrugged and they turned to leave, when Thomas the mayor shouted for the young lady. He ran up with a sweaty face and ruffled mustache from the long, heated day. "Claire, dear. How are you?"

"I'm doing great, Mr. Thomas. How are you?"

"Splendid, splendid. How is that old farm going?"

"It's getting better."

"Much better," Gray added. Thomas beamed at the boy.

"Ah, Gray! How's the blacksmith been treating you? Your grandfather isn't too tough on you, is he?"

"He's treating me well," He lied. "I'm learning lots."

"Ah, glorious! I'm proud of the both of you."

"Thank you, sir."

"No, thank _you_, Claire. Now you two have a goodnight and rest well!"

Gray and Claire left the Town Square, still hand in hand, and took the back trail to the forest. It was beautiful at night and the stars gleamed brightly with strong intent. Gotz cottage was dark and logs and wood shavings covered the lawn. Just ahead, through some trees, was a large lake with a tiny cave in the middle.

"You can only get to that one when the lake freezes over in winter. It's got great stuff."

Claire nodded and admired the sparkling water, "How are you?"

"I'm okay. And you?"

"Tired. I never realize how much I do until the end of the day. It all just sort of collapses."

"Ever try out the hot springs?"

"No. Haven't had the time."

"They can work well if you're stressed."

The thought brought curious questions to the farmer, "Stress, eh? Do you get stressed a lot?"

"Yes."

"Seriously?" There was heavy doubt in her tone.

"Yes, why did you just say it like that?"

Claire looked at his face, "Like what?"

"Like..." His free hand went out. "Like a woman or something!"

Claire glared, "Is it wrong for me to act like a _woman_?"

"Well... yeah?" He tried shaking it off to get back on topic. "Claire, I have my gramps always pestering the living daylight outta me."

She rolled her eyes, making sure he saw, "You say I'm the one acting like a _woman_."

She spat the last word like a curse. Gray's expression hardened, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Suck it up."

He pulled his hand out of hers and spoke each word seperately, "_Suck it up_?"

"Yeah, Gray. Suck it up. He can't baby you forever."

"Baby-" his face reddened with flooding frustration. "Claire, he treats me like an idiot!"

"Because you can act like one."

His teeth clenched, "And you can act like a smartass who belittles others - like everyone is just somehow one step bellow you! You're like an old man, Claire, a disgusting, grouchy, old m-"

Gray heard the slap before he felt the sting. The rant stopped mid verse and it caught him by total shock. The cooling air stung his flesh like needles trying to penetrate like lightening bolts. It was painful beyond a hammer to the hand - it was horrid.

Claire stood with both hands curled in white knuckled fists, her temper seeming to peek. The veins in her forehead were bulging, despite him barely able to see it behind the hat.

"Don't you ever speak to me that way again, Gray."

And that was it.

Claire scuffed away, into the dark forest and back home.


	5. Chapter 5

**Ah, yes. The names in Harvest Moon. I failed. I apologize, but more importantly, I thank you awesome readers and reviewers for correcting me! I have made up for it, I promise. A bit rushed, but that's okay. My leg is very much asleep.  
**

* * *

** Chapter Five**

With the new puppy, life was beginning to wear down heavily on Claire. The first night with the pooch was filled with severe whimpering and moans, no matter how hard she tried comforting it. Ann came for a sleepover to help her friend, yet ended up being just as flustered in the morning. Duke advised to give the puppy some tough love, let it sleep in the old dog house by the barn. Yet she couldn't, it was too young and defenseless against predators.

And she suffered.

Her crops were put second and her social life ignored. The big spring harvest was this morning, and many friends were coming to assist, catch up and hang out: Ann, Manna, Anna, Sasha, Duke, Cliff, Mary, Rick and the two children, May and Stu. Doug promised to cook a feast that Ann would bring over, and all Claire needed to do was bring out baskets and wait for the visitors.

Outside, the tiny puppy yipped happily in her overall belly pocket, it's furry brown head peaking out and shouting at the sky.

Porter, she named the mutt.

The sun was tuned higher than usual, the morning already budding warmth on her skin. If it was a normal early morning for Claire, she would have started hours ago, the crack of dawn, but she had to be flexible to the average persons needs.

By eight, people slowly trickled in with old clothes and positive attitudes. Sasha, of course, had overdressed and bought an entirely new "farming" outfit. Typical, Claire knew by now.

"Are we ready to begin?" Cliff asked her.

The blonde nodded and explained the game plan. Half of them would harvest cucumbers, and the other half would work out the potatoes and turnips. Carefully she went through a step by step analysis of how to pick cucumbers and properly ship them into the crate: start at the bottom and work up, don't pick off the natural thorns for any reason, and make sure the vine is completely detached. Then make sure they went on top of the other crops. For the rest of them, it was simple: pick it and load it. All poor ones get thrown in the river.

Claire worked with Ann and the two children on the potatoes, while the wives started with cucumbers and the others went at the turnips.

"I like my puppies," May commented. Stu grinned wide and softly patted Porter's head when the farmer knelled over.

"I like Claire's puppy."

"Her puppy was mine," The sweet girl explained. "We gave it to her for safety so the wolves won't eat her!"

Ann smiled and looked at Claire, pulling a potato out, "Get any sleep?"

"Sleep? What is that?"

Her best friend laughed, "That sucks."

"I know. It's like the world is built to chop me down."

Both children had a hard time understanding that turnips and potatoes were in the ground, then were to be loaded in separate containers. Every new basket filled, Ann and the farmer would sort through and correct after.

"How're things with Cliff?"

Ann shrugged, "Thingly."

She laughed, "Sounds very inter-"

"You need a party," The ginger decided. "We need a party. Tonight. Here."

"Here?"

"Here."

Manna shot up from the cucumber forest, "Did someone say party?"

"Yeah!" Ann shouted, grinning deviously. "Claire suggested we have one at her place tonight."

Two other heads of lush women popped from the vines, just like that, and began chirping excitedly over the event. Sasha gasped, "We should invite everyone in town!"

Anna placed gentle fingers to her chin, "Oh, Basil should get to know our Claire. Mary, too."

"And Jeff with Karen."

"And Trent."

"Oh, Trent," Sasha sighed.

"Elli, too. She'll come with him."

Claire cleared her throat, "We should really focus on work for n-"

"They could bring Ellen over for some fresh air."

"Of course! And the Mayor would have to come!"

"Harris and Carter and Gotz should, also, and..."

Claire drowned out the noise. Fine, she decided. A party was definitely not what she needed, but it was well beyond her control now. All she cared was for the harvest to be finished, and all else would be acceptable. With tomorrow being the first official day of summer, the new blueprints for the crops already sent adrenaline in her blood: pineapples and corn. They were both fun foods to grow, corn being so practical and pineapples quite valuable.

By afternoon, she needed to put her hair up and fit the ponytail in the back adjustment hole in Gray's hat.

After lunch, she had to roll up her sleeves.

In evening, her back was pressed against the grass.

Exhaustion hit the farmer like bricks falling from the sky. Children ran about the cleared field, Doug and Duke came over to help Zack with the shipping, and the party was being set up. Picnic tables were placed about, paper lanterns were cut and Ann cooked in the kitchen while Cliff helped.

Porter whimpered in her pocket and Claire pet the pooch, who was still small enough to stand on her abdomen.

There wasn't much for Claire to do in preparing for her _own_ party. Before she could consider washing up, guests were spilling the yard and conversing with cups of wine in hand, enjoying the beauty of a living place and glowing lanterns.

Gotz chuckled to himself when he saw the young farmer resting against the fence, just across from the oak. The local and rather lanky policeman, Harris, gathered beside his friend and smiled gently.

"Poor gal's already asleep and we've not even begun to dance the night away."

Gotz shrugged, "I'm not dancing anything away."

Harris laughed.

Lillia came with a basket of fresh eggs and her two children. Popuri was exceptionally excited these days: it was the end of spring. The beginning of summer. Kai would be back in Mineral Town tomorrow. Her brother had already heard an excessive amount of blabbering of the summer-swooner, and with an animosity already built for the boy, it grew even larger.

Rick searched in hopes to find his friend, but instead lay eyes on his love: Karen.

It would be best to talk to her.

But what if she hated him?

What if she never wanted to talk to him again?

Taking a deep breath, Rick thought happy thoughts of chickens and made his way over to the beaut.

Won came hand in hand with the sweet librarian, who's father was smiling with them. Basil kissed his wife when they met and stayed to cuddle at her side.

Carter joyfully hugged all of the guests and wished them a dear blessing, bringing Claire a few truffles. Within a half hour all guests were buzzing about the property. The entire town was conversing happily amongst each other.

That included Gray.

The sky reminded him of worn quilts, pretty purples and luscious reds tampering with the clouds. The smells of veggies and chicken mended with the soil and heeps of baskets that stacked around the shipping crate. Zack was standing next to it all, proud, as it it were all _his_ work. The unusually small town seemed packed on her lawn, some even in her place.

_Her_.

Claire.

Under his breath, Gray cursed the name. He didn't want to have to encounter that hammer-hand tonight. There was too much embarrassment and he wasn't quite sure which one of them would crack first and apologize. They were both stubborn and it was like two bulls in a single territory.

Saibara continued to talk to his good friend, Barley, when Gray joined his side. Ellen, Elli and Dr. Trent all conversed within their small circle, drinks in hand. Barley laughed at something and Ellen giggled with Elli.

When others started talking, Saibara looked at Gray.

It all happened very quickly.

A strange, smokey fuzz covered the old mans thin eyes and the wine in his hand slipped to feed the ground. Those old, cracked lips trembled and he began hacking profusely. Specks of blood hit Gray's cream outfit.

"Gramps?"

His large hands swung to reach something, pulling Gray down as knees and mind gave out.

"_Grandpa_!"

Silence swept across the entire farm. Dr. Trent was at the ground in a second with the elder, Gray on the other side. Trent yelled for Elli to find a board. Townspeople crowded around to witness in shock, the doctor working so desperately with their dear friend. Gray was soaked with fear and held his grandfathers hand, listening as his sister and father rushing over.

Elli came back with Claire and a large slate of wood. Saibara was carefully placed on by his grandson and son-in-law, while Gotz rushed over to help carry him to the clinic.

Gray never put a coherent thought together when they ran him to the clinic, or while aiding Trent in any sort of medical needs. There wasn't much that could be done when they reached the inside and unloaded him to a bed. IV's and machines did not suite their grandfather well.

Ann was emotional while in the waiting room, clinging to Doug, who comforted his daughter greatly. Ellen sent her most loving condolences but had to wait at home, and Barley waited for his friend in the sitting room.

Gray sat alone in a pale corner, fists clenched and desperately trying to shut out the rest of the room.

The memory of his mother came to mind.

It felt like so long ago already, seeing her final moments. The only time his grandfather ever wept.

Ann cradled into Doug while Cliff held her hand. They fit into a perfect puzzle, and Gray felt even more like an outcast. As if white noise and isolation were building their own house around him.

Then _she_ came charging through the doors, breathing heavy and looking slightly frantic. When he looked up and eyes met with Claire's, he stood almost instinctively. Both crossed the room and folded into each other. His sobs became more prominent and her hold more deep.

They said nothing to each other. Nothing was needed. Just Claire's presence was enough to demolish the walls of solitude around him. She snuggled next to him and laced their hands and fingers together. There was more comfort from her than he could have imagined.

The young blacksmith's apprentice tried distracting himself during the night. He focused on Claire because she seemed to be the only source of energy, of life, in the room. First there was her skin, it's tanning nature and gentle nature. It carved valleys of muscle he'd never seen but only imagined that were hidden beneath sleeves and pant legs. Those golden falls cascaded in rough tangles from the back of his hat. Her hat. In her eyes, those starlit midnight eyes, was exhaustion. Like the stars needed a night of rest to steal as their own. And just staring at them from the side, Gray fell deep in and leaned against his friend for comfort. Reassurance.

"You're tough."

Gray nodded. A smooth, small hand ran through his ginger locks and ended up brushing his cheek. As he cocooned himself into her, his head tucked beneath her chin and fit along her neck, and Gray planted a kiss on the base.

The root of his love.

Dr. Trent wasn't able to give much information that night, but Saibara was stable and sleeping. The elder's lungs were not properly functioning, and at the time, a diagnoses couldn't be given. The family would have to wait a day or so for a stable prognosis.

When the morning crept in, Claire finally moved, like a boa unwrapping from prey.

"Sometimes, the sunbeams look like jail bars."

Gray said nothing. What seemed deep inside, a growl rang from his stomach.

"I can make breakfast for everyone," Claire stood. "It's up to you if you want to come back to my place or stay here."

Looking across the room, Doug was the only other one awake while Ann slept on his lap and Cliff on hers. He nodded them off, "If anything happens, we'll ring up right away."

The walk back was clean of noise. Mineral Town was barely echoing of a birds chirp or rusting leaves. Gray's hand still latched with hers, gripped tight as if Claire were his lifeline. Weakness was so apparent he felt like crumbling stone. Ashes spread on water.

Things were surprisingly cleaned up on the farm. Only the lanterns still hung from buildings and fences, and Claire assumed Manna had her hand in it. The house was like normal, and the first thing she did was get to cooking.

Gray collapsed on the couch within seconds.

Porter rested happily on the head of his pillow, dreaming of squirrels and butterfly hunts.

Peace was real in this home. Not an artificial spray to cover up stress. Calm, collectiveness and care were somehow obvious, if that were even possible. That's why he was able to sleep for so long, so well. Gray's muscular legs reached out and his chest puffed in an all too needed stretch. Blinking open and looking around, he slowly pondered on the previous hours. With the faint smell of eggs, bacon and bread, he suddenly shot up and frantically regained the last events of the day.

On the counter was a large plate of breakfast, topped off with a note saying:

_If you wake up._

Despite wanting to resist his own needs, Gray caved in and munched down on the platter. Out of the window he admired the field, noticing Claire in the furthest stretches. Those blue overalls were caked with dirt and dull grass stains, but they were a mark of beauty. That field was so rich and perfect for a day of work, he was at an awe. The sun also caught his attention while some fresh glimmers entered the room. The day was nearly over, and that was clarified when the farmer came in and rested the tools against the inside frame before turning to him.

"Hey."

He nodded, not sure if his voice still existed.

"Trent called and said your grandfather was better. He's at the inn now, if you want to visit."

Without another word, Gray got up and left.

"Asshat."

The room was rather lost after. But his attitude was no longer her problem - if wanted to be a bastard, that wasn't her business.

Claire let the world wash away in the shower and her isolation bring peace.

The puppy sat on her during dinner, and even though she knew it was wrong, fed him bits from human food. Porter wasn't bad company at all, even if he didn't sleep in his lifetime. He was a simple man with simple requests.

Claire got up and put the hat back on. Even if the sunlight was the only thing keeping her from falling flat on her face, she still wanted to see Manna and the girls for their every-night hang out. It was obvious that summer was around, too. The day was already longer and beautiful flowers and old trees were blooming.

Immediately, Manna ran over and hugged Claire. She bombarded the young blonde with dozens of questions and a slight examination of her extremities. Sasha and Anna also chirped from the table and begged to know the status update on Saibara and herself. Duke heard the commotion, saw her distant stare and pulled Claire away from the ladies, reassuring them all she needed was some fresh air. They both went to the cellar and sat on barrels.

"You aren't looking so healthy, Claire, dear."

A long breath wheezed out, "Stuff happens."

"I know, I know," He patted her knee. "You've got packs under your eyes so bad, I'd swear they were body bags."

She frowned.

"Right. Not the best choice of words considering the circ-"

"No," Claire intervened. "It's fine. He's fine. Trent said it was a blood pressure problem or something. He will be okay if he cools down."

"Which he won't."

"Nope."

Duke nodded, "How's the family?"

"Better."

He nodded again. The room went quiet and she counted the wine bottles three times over. She tried memorizing the colors each reflected and imagines what they'd taste like. Duke poured them each a glass at last and toasted, "To good health."

"To good health."


	6. Chapter 6

**LE FLUFFY FLUFF HAS ARRIVED.  
**

**Le cough. Right. Here you go. I'm still iffy about this chapter, I let it sit for a week and it's not gotten any better. Poo.  
**

* * *

**Chapter 6**

Rick had been going on for days about the annual chicken festival in Mineral Town. His family hosted and provided all of the contestants from around the world, where the best of the best chickens used instincts to dominate the other in a small ring. The blond boy nagged Claire for hours upon hours to join them at the event and see how things were done, seeing that he expected Claire to own a flock of chickens soon enough.

That's why, right now, she was making sure the coast was clear a final time with towels in hand. Manna and Duke walked down the street for Towns Square. Her breath held. Once they were gone, the farmer blasted across the property, over the bridge and to the Hot Springs. The area was vacant and she slipped off her typical attire and slid into the steaming water.

Life was at its peak.

The farm was blossoming beautifully and her shipments were bringing in enough for an upgrade to the rotting chicken coop. But there was also a gap in her days. Rick was always watching or talking in the mornings. Manna and the girls were there, as was her ginger buddy, Ann, and even the occasional visit from the kids or villagers. But a gap remained, nonetheless.

Since Saibara's medical scare, Gray hadn't come over. Or before, when they had the argument. The apprentice, once her closest friend, was now just a stranger lost at sea.

Not her problem, Claire deliberately convinced herself.

With endless work and no alone time, the iron fist woman sunk deeper into the boiling springs with appreciation.

It was better in experience than words. Gray once explained to her how they relieved stress - and never being one to rant about her own fall backs - it was a great time to try it out. The heat created countless bubbles that massaged every pore of her flesh. Claire happily sighed and let the steam engulf her body.

Her mind shut off and the universe disconnected.

For a minute.

"Why, hello, pretty lady."

Her heart quit and eyes slapped open, where they met an overly tanned man sitting in the spring with muddy eyes and incredibly defined features. Claire cocked a brow, "Who are you?"

"I'm anybody you want me to be, sweet cheeks."

She stayed silent.

He cleared his throat, "Kai."

A strange sensation crept into her spine. That name rang the wrong kind of bells in her brain, yet couldn't identify it. Where had that name come up before? Who said it? There wasn't a connection.

It hit like cement blocks to her bones. The blood in her body surfaced and Claire turned so red, she swore she was an explosive. Not only was it the Kai with many fairy tales embroided into Manna's ramblings, the man with more hands on the female population than humanly possible, it was Kai _naked_ in springs with a _naked_ Claire.

Gray stood stiff.

It didn't help that there were many yelling people around or overly obnoxious cheers, but the worst part were the screaming chickens. The headache he'd developed recently intensified to several degrees and it felt immoral. He didn't want to be here, he didn't want to be awake.

Life was taking too many tolls and a festival wasn't making them disappear.

Saibara was in the front of the crowd, seemingly healthy and acting as if nothing ever happened. That was him, though. Never weak for anything or anyone.

Ann tugged at his sleeve, "You can go, ya know. Rick and Lillia will understand."

Cliff nodded in agreement, who was arm locked with her, and Gray sighed.

Getting through the crowd was no easy task but somehow it faded and was replaced with trees. The event was nothing but a low buzz, the underbelly to a better symphony far away: silence. Gotz place was at its usual state and berries now grew behind his cabin. He took a few of the wild things and continued forth for the Goddess Pond.

"And what's your name, babe?"

"None of your business."

Kai frowned, "And why's that?"

"Because you'll never have to use it."

"Does that mean I can call you something else?" The dark man with a luxurious and tangy scent smirked. "Beautiful?"

All she needed, Claire thought, was one good reason to knock him unconscious. A good punch with a left hook would do the job.

"No."

"Blondie?"

"No."

"Goldie?"

"N-" Her lungs stopped mid verse. That certainly wasn't Kai's voice, who was currently looking past her and grinning.

"Well if it ain't my bro," He waved. "Wassup, man? How's life been treating ya?"

The young woman turned in the water and saw him staring at her. Usually, it wouldn't have mattered. But with her current status set max on vulnerable, the farmer blushed.

Gray ignored Kai.

"Why are you naked in the springs with Kai?" He asked.

"Shut up!" She snapped. "_He's_ naked in the springs with _me_!"

An eyebrow lifted, "Is that any better?"

Her mouth opened for a comeback but shut just as quick. Kai ran a wet hand through his hair, "I don't mind, either way."

That had to be reason enough to murder him, Goddess, it had to be.

"Well, I do," The ginger barked before she could.

A shift of confusion, annoyance then awkwardness flashed onto her features and she wondered how to get out without either men seeing a peek. It was a dilemma Claire never thought she'd have to face.

She cleared her throat and shoved a fist close to Kai's face.

"If you both don't close your eyes from now until I am completely finished dressing, I will beat your bodies to a pulp and sell the juices to Manna for wine."

That wasn't going to be the last encounter with Kai, though Claire dearly prayed it would've been.

Gray was rather helpful in the situation and possessively grabbed her hand while leaving - to mark his territory. Things weren't much better on the walk back and for the obvious reasons: there were several bones to pick, meaning Gray's wedged between Claire's teeth.

Nonetheless, he led her wordlessly to the born-again farm and hoped to rest inside. Once the door shut, a fist swung at his gut.

"Goddess, woman!" He wheezed. "What the he-"

"You rude, self absorbed, iron for brain, overly perverted and pretentious prick!"

A slap was delivered to the back of his head. "How dare you look at my ass!"

An awkward cough was forced out of his ribs.

"How dare you act like an asshat and ignore me constantly because your menstrual cycle seems to never end!"

Gray remained still.

"How am I supposed to go to the inn or get upgrades when all you do is make everything difficult for me? Do you even realize what's happened? I am growing pineapple. _Pineapple_! Pineapple is incredibly difficult to grow and I _still_ am!"

"I don't follow-"

"Don't interrupt me! Do you ever consider how others feel when you shove then aside? Use them like-"

"Okay, stop," The man reached over the grabbed her wrist. "I never once used you."

"Chicken shit."

A frown creased in his features, "I never have."

"Lie to me again."

"Goddess, Goldie, I'm not lying," He awkwardly held her wrist and they entered into an intense glaring battle. That didn't help anything, "Honest. Swear on anything that I never intended to. And," A sigh swarmed out. "I'm sorry."

"About?"

"Everything, okay?" Both hands were thrown up and landed to grip on his own head. "Everything. Where do I begin, huh?"

"You called me an evil old man."

"For saying you were an evil old guy, for ignoring you, for looking at your ass, for that time I asked dad to spit in your food-"

"What?"

"He didn't. But still. I asked and I'm sorry because... just... stuff." He still felt like prey beneath her intense stare, going on to awkwardly shift positions and give a weak smile, "You, uh, you smell nice..."

The petite woman wrapped into an embrace around his waist. "I hate normal Gray."

"But...?"

"But Sentimental Gray is sentimental."

He snorted but hugged back. A great, herbal aroma came from her body.

And that was it. He just had to he whacked a lot and embarrassed, then stripped of all his manly pride. Simple... for Claire.

Even when the sun set and Porter lay fast asleep, they continued to enjoy each others company. Dinner was being prepared by Gray since his cooking skills far exceeded Claire's.

"I don't have much."

Gray shrugged, "You kept enough from spring, we can make something out of it."

"You can make something out of it."

They exchanged a smile.

"Hey."

"Yeah?" He turned on the burner and remained focused on the veggies.

There was a long pause seeping in before she continued, "Do you ever miss your mom?"

Teeth clenched tight and the searing of food to pan crackled in the air. There was never telling what she was thinking of, "Depends on the days. But, yeah, sure."

Claire nodded and hugged herself, sitting cross legged on the white checkered counter, "I miss mine, too."

Gray nodded.

"She's not dead or anything, neither of my parents are. But I left them for farming on my own."

"They farmed?"

"Well," She chuckled. "Just my mom. My dad isn't exactly the... 'roll in the mud' kind of man. Ya know?"

More food hit the pan and he scratched his head, "Not really, no."

"He's still a hard worker, the mayor of Waffle Town."

Their eyes met and he put down the utensils. Mayor, he thought, trying to remember who that was. Waffle Town made good business for his grandfather and Gray often went to visit there for shipping and trades. A man with incredibly blond hair entered his memory, along with a chestnut haired woman with an overly bubbly attitude.

"Gill and Angela?"

Claire grinned, "Yeah."

"Wow."

The TV was left on for good background noise. Dinner was enjoyed. Frustration was somehow forgotten. She talked about farming and shipping. He talked about Saibara and the blacksmith. They ended up sitting against the couch, settled into the floor and putting together an old puzzle that May left one day when she was over to visit her and the mutt.

To say the least, it was going rough.

"What is this even supposed to be? A horse?"

"A castle."

Gray groaned and tried fitting two obscure pieces together.

"You and Kai are close?"

He shrugged, "Sure. He rents out a room during the entire summer at the inn and we talk. That's about it. Popuri is obsessed with him, but it's never really been a mutual thing."

Claire scowled, "Love is gross."

"So are you."

"You're one to talk, asshat."

A snort blew from the man and he reached to pull the bill of their hat lower down her face. Claire attempted to throw a punch but he caught it close enough and held it within his own, much larger, hand. Both laughed when she lifted the hat with her shoulder - both hands already occupied by his - and attempted to wrestle him off.

"Gray!" Giggles charged out, followed by a large burp. He stopped immediately and her giggles turned into belly laughter.

"And you say I'm gross," he shook his head but smiled, switching hands from hers to quickly snatch the hat back and fit it back on himself. That started a whole new battle of switch-backs and whacks and hits and name calling. Claire moved her way to straddle Gray, grabbing his very broad shoulders while his back was like a board to the couch as they sat. The hat was on his head. His hands were on her thighs. Her eyes were seething into his.

"Hat. Now."

"I should get going. It's late."

"Gray. Hat."

"I'll," He tried to get up but she pushed the man back in place. "Be seeing you."

"Gray."

"Goldie."

Potatoes and milk lingered from the farmer's breath when she leaned in close to his face. Noses crossed, foreheads touched.

"Hat."

"No."

"Stealer."

"Brat."

"Gray."

"Claire."

It was obvious from his dark circles that Gray probably should be going to get a good nights rest. But he was tough, she convinced herself, and he owed her some more time from the weeks he'd been ignoring their friendship. There was a simple and rather charming smirk dancing on his features and a twinkle in his lovely eyes.

Her small hands went right from shoulders to his neck. Surprisingly, not in a murderous manner. In a seductive one.

"Give me the hat, Gray."

Gray shifted hands as well, from thighs to tightly about the small waist of the woman, and small she was. Smaller than he expected. Curvier, too.

"No."

Whether it be for deception, instincts, or the will of the Goddess, Claire kissed him. It didn't quite function like she planned, though.

Because he was kissing her back.

New found nervousness erupted in the farmers core and neither pulled back as seconds churned into minutes. It was either the best or worst day since she'd been here.

Gray's lips grew more active when the sparks in his belly lit fire. Her aroma was even better on his own tongue. There was a noise so gorgeous whenever their lips restarted, Gray swore he was going crazy for trying to memorize it. Claire was the one to leisurely break off and keep their faces still in contact.

She cleared her throat, "Hat, please."

Like magic, he transferred it back on her scalp.

Blacksmith and farmer exchanged a long stare between oceanic and midnight eyes in a state of uncertainty.

Maybe it was much too soon, Claire thought. It had only been two seasons - not even two. He was the bastard who ignored her and treated her like horse crap. He was the asshole who left her to eat dirt and grow a happy farm from it. He was the one who called her names and tore down any self esteem once owned. He was the one who helped her. Who saved her from Kai. The one who held her hands and smashed boulders with them. The man who made her safe when mining and took her punches when he deserved it.

She exhaled and leaned back to gaze at him. Butterflies didn't flutter inside and sparks didn't spontaneously emit.

Rather, elephants sucked out her air and ran marathons in her gut. Gunshots burst like pennies transforming into wishes in a well. And goddess be damned, she had wells to fill.

"I know it's not sexy to make out with someone who so constantly has their foot in their mouth, but will you be my boyfriend?"

Gray smirked and snorted lightly at how childish this was. Childish, but still Claire-like, "Yeah, Goldie," He brought her face back to his, "Yeah."


	7. Chapter 7

**So sorry for the lack of updates. I have AP tests. **

**All of your reviews are amazing, I love you all so much, and I hope you're feeling better Ancient Liddel. **

* * *

**Chapter 7**

The old man coughed a few times, partially from health and partially from amazement. He'd never seen the boy clean up so fast.

"Got somewhere to be, lazy sack?"

"Claire's."

That stumped his mouth shut. Maybe that's where he went during the festival yesterday. "You think you can just waltz off to a girls house and not tell your father?"

"It's fine," Gray swept faster.

"On what goddess damned planet is that _fine_?"

"Gramps, it's fine. He won't worry about me."

"Boy," Saibara whipped his cane against the boom. "You misunderstand me. I don't care about you."

"Thanks."

"Neither does your father. I'm worried about the girl."

That stopped him, "Why would you be worried about Claire?"

"_You're_ visiting her. And often, at that."

The young man huffed and glared, going back to sweeping the floor, "And?"

"I was once your age. I know what happens in closed quarters-"

"Gah, grandpa!" He gawked. "Seriously? One of these talks? I'm old enough to know the basics and... stuff."

Grabbing fresh tea and a novel, the elder scratched his beard upon laying into the couch, "But you're thick as an ore. Dumb as one, too. Naïve like a squirrel. You flaunt around with nuts just desperate to burrow them into a young lady's hole for-"

"Oh, Goddess!" Gray groaned, plugged his ears and yelled. "You are an insane, old bastard!"

Saibara chuckled, "Looks like the squirrel has to find a new place to burry his nuts."

"I hate you."

"Hate me," The old man opened the book and it protested with a muddle creak. "I don't care. You're annoying, anyway. Get out."

He did, and with gratitude. The heat was somber compared to the blacksmith, but extremely humid. Especially for this time of day. Evening. Which meant she'd be at Manna's and Duke's.

A peach tree grew well behind the shop, and he grabbed one to snack on for the walk. The metronome of his heartbeats felt like they gushed more and quicker nearing each step. Claire had only asked him to be her boyfriend just yesterday. Which, by all means, was a slap in the face. A good slap. That kind you get from a coach, not an angry mom. The kind that encouraged you to do better.

He felt taller. The same height as the trees around him.

At the winery, Gray threw the peach into bushes beyond the roads and knocked. The giggles and squeals inside hushed and heels clicked on wood. Manna opened and looked at Gray as if he were a diamond. Prada shoes. Coach bags.

The bad kind of coach-ly things.

"Look who it is!" The housewife yelled. Everyone gasped and flaunted with hundreds of questions. She dragged him inside and every eye launched at him felt like rockets, put together by amateur scientists just blasting off comments as if he could handle them.

"So you're dating our Claire, now, eh?"

"I always knew he liked her!"

"But she asked him."

"Claire's secretly a romantic."

"I would be, too, if I was young enough for these men..."

"Sasha!"

"What?" The blonde giggled. "It's not my fault these men grew up _so_ well."

"He does have a nice butt."

"So much muscle."

"And brain, like the doctor."

"Oh, sweet Mary Sue. That doctor."

"Is Ellen's granddaughter marrying him yet?"

"Haven't heard."

"She's turned out to be quite pretty. Reserved, though."

"Like Claire!"

"But Claire had legs that could go on for days!"

"If only I were young again," Sasha sighed.

Duke chuckled and continued to read his paper. Sasha flaunted her hands around. Anna debated with Manna about how much Gray had to work out every day to get muscles like his.

Claire, well, Claire just looked like Claire. Her cheeks were covered with embarrassment and her lips formed into a smile wide enough for the man to return his own.

Her hand found and tangled into his warm one when she stood, "Ready to go?" He asked.

"Yeah, my head has exploded enough."

The women barely noticed their farewells, but Duke happily waved the couple off. The breeze danced with the farmers long blonde hair outside, the hat barely containing a thing.

"How are you?"

Gray smiled, "Good. How're you, Goldie?"

"I'm great. I got a lot done today."

"Oh?"

"Oh, indeed."

He noticed her different apparel. Things weren't incredibly baggy and covered. There was actually skin - yes, skin - showing. All the way up to her mid thighs. And her arms were bare. Overall shorts and a white t-shirt. Not feminine, but a sure stretch from the usual. It looked nice to see some pale greatness.

And, yes.

Those legs could go on for days.

Porter ran up to his owner and licked her free hand. He'd already reached her knees and wasn't even close to full growth.

"Hey, Port!"

Something large neighed to Gray's left. He swore profusely in shock.

A gigantic horse budged into his face.

"What the..."

"Brown!" Claire happily declared.

"Yes, it is..." He awkwardly stared back at the mammal, who seemed to be peering deep at his soul.

"No, asshat," She chuckled. "His name is Brown. Old Barley gave him to me this morning to take care of. Isn't he adorable?"

"Adorable... isn't my choice of words."

The horse neighed when Claire pet him leisurely with gentle, yet firm, strokes. The tips of her fingers were softly dancing on its fur, like keys to a piano that stuck a chord that played music of joy through its nose.

The mutt became jealous of the affection and nudged Claire back. Gray was slightly proud of the dog.

"Fish and corn sound good?"

"Sounds great."

Claire remembered how much he loved baked corn back at the horse racing festival. And seeing how there was a river running through her backyard, fish seemed like a lazier option than truffling all the way to the supermarket. They each grabbed a fishing rod from the shed and stuck their feet in the water, bottoms to the crisp grass. Conversation leaked from their mouths and intertwined into random, meaningless topics.

"I don't know."

"Have you at least tried?"

"No," The apprentice denied. "Not really."

"Let's go mining sometime, you could find a jewel I like."

"That _you_ like? Why d'you have to like it?"

Claire stopped braiding her hair into a giant, sloppy knot, "I want you to make something for me."

"Wouldn't it be better to practice before making you something?"

She shrugged, "I don't see why that'd matter."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

He smirked, the breeze gently igniting, "And you like topaz."

"Blue topaz."

"Blue topaz," He agreed. Her eyes slid off the fishing pole and matched to meet Gray's bright ones. The ruffle to his hair and blue of his eyes seemed even better than usual, the farmer admired.

"The corn is growing in fast. I don't know if I'm caring for the pineapple properly, though."

"Why?"

"I have no idea how long they take to grow, how much to water them, the type of soil they need..."

Gray thought about that, "See if Mary has any books on farming."

She nodded and focused on their intertwined hands. They were different worlds: hers, long and thin, petite and dirty from work while his were strong and callused, tanned and firm. The way he held them together caused her blood to work faster.

"My mom grows lots of stuff, but never pineapples," The young farmer rambled. "My dad loves tomatoes, so we grew those for summer crops."

Gill would be a strange father to have, Gray thought. Every time he had business with the man, it was unbearably formal. And seeing how Claire was so different made him quite curious.

"They seem to be growing fine," he commented.

Her teeth were very white against parted tanned lips, "Stop kissing ass, asshat."

"Stop? I wish I could start," In a quick motion, he reached over to throw the hat off her head. Blush soured her cheeks with his blunt comment, but before she could scold him, their lips already hit like the big bang.

Before, the sound was what he focused on. Now, Gray just wanted to absorb the flows, the touch and temperature of her full lips. Slowly, his hand climbed up to hold her neck, expanding their kiss deeper. But with a sudden gasp his girl pulled away and ran in the river. Not only did the cold of her lips leaving like a band-aid being ripped off leave him bewildered, but the splash of water that poured all over did the same. Her legs desperately raced through the water in hopes to get back their hat he'd so carelessly thrown about. The fishing lines snapped at her skin.

In a hopeful launch, the woman reached for the blue cap. The river splashed and engulfed her, but spit her back up just as fast: hat in hand.

"Got it!"

"And successfully broke our dinner lines. Yeah. Great job, hero."

"Oh, stop being so grumpy," She walked through the bubbling stream. Stopping at his feet, pressing between his legs, she grinned deviously. "Hug me, darling."

"Oh, goddess," Gray swore, analyzing the water still seeping and drooling from her body. "Get back, Kappa creature."

"Don't be like that. Go ahead, kiss my ass now, iron head."

Her limbs cascaded out from the river.

"_Claire_!"

She continued to make her way out while he scooted back.

"I'm warning you, Claire. Don't come near me..."

"Or else what? You'll shoot me?"

"Something like that."

She jumped forward and wrapped every tiny limb around Gray. He desperately called out insults and begs to get her off, until they started rolling and tumbling against one another. Mud tangled into her wet locks and grass stains ran like train tracks every time they rolled on his uniform. He shoved mud down her shirt and she gasped.

In return, she threw manure in his face.

Her laughter could be heard towns away. Trees probably shook. Thunder could have lost to it. The look on his face, or, at least, what she could see of his face, was absolutely priceless.

He recovered quickly, "Oh, _darling_," he mocked. "Kiss me."

Rick watched from a distance. It seemed like he was going to kill her. They'd been wrestling for a long time - too long, if you asked him.

What if he got angry with her? What if he was too strong for her? What if he didn't stop? What if, just in theory, Gray was a mastered serial killer who finally got another catch? Or worse. What if that actually was laughter from her? What if Claire was happy with him right now instead of Rick?

Ignoring the screeching chickens and spilling watering hose, the chicken man ran to the farm. Through the corn stalks and with her dog playfully following him. Rick yelled Claire's name and came to a halt at the opening of the edge.

On top was his enemy, caked with dirt and grass. Sandwiched in one of his bold arms was her, matching in filth, and confused.

"Rick, what's wrong?"

"Get off of her!" The dirty blond demanded. "Right now, you killer!"

Silence.

"W... What?"

"You heard me, Gray! If I should even call you that..."

Awkward would be an understatement.

Claire held tight as he slowly stood the both of them up. They stayed close to each other.

"Do you need to see Trent, Rick?"

He raised a brow.

"You're crazier than usual," Gray stated bluntly.

"I am not crazy, you... you... _player_!"

"Player?" Claire chirped.

"Y-yeah. Player..." Rick awkwardly realized his doings.

The beaut contorted with annoyance, "Stay on your own damn property. _And_ business, nugget brain."

That wasn't the last time Rick bothered the couple, either.

The next night, he followed them to dinner. Sat between them at the table. Talked the entire time.

He'd walk them home.

He would knock on Claire's door at unreasonably inconvenient hours just to wish a good morning.

Being her friend, he was sure getting on the farmers bad side.

Gray made his way out to Kai's shack one night when his girlfriend went to bed early.

"He just doesn't leave!"

The bandana sporting man nodded, "I know, man."

"It's like he's her mother or something. It's insane."

Kai shrugged, "He's got a crush on Claire. No biggy."

"No, pool boy. It's a _biggy_."

"How?"

"I can't do anything without him there! It's like I'm kissing the freak instead of her. Like he's some sort of disease from her ass."

He snorted, "Dude, welcome to my world."

That was right, the ginger recalled. Rick would stalk around Kai when he dated the guy's sister short times ago.

"How'd you get rid of him?"

"Broke up with the babe."

It was Gray's turn to snort, "Yeah. Not doing that."

"Look," He rolled up both flannel sleeves. "It's easy. I know a guy who knows some guys..."

"We are not murdering Rick."

"Hey," Both overly tanned hands rose up. "Don't say I didn't offer ya."

Dinner was ruined for them one day in the following week. Darkness already encased over the town, the couple took turns cleaning off and preparing the meal. Gray twisted the corn and looked over to the bathroom where Claire finished a shower. She walked out in clothes so skimpy he swore he was violating something.

Black sports bra and sports shorts.

There were muscles so prudent In her thighs, so defined in her torso, so chiseled into her arms he stopped thinking about anything else but what her bare skin must feel like in his hands.

"So, I was thinking tomorrow would be a good day to finally go mining," Claire announced, towel drying her hair. "It's going to rain and I won't have to do as much around here, just make sure Port and Brown are safe."

"Uh huh..."

"Are you doing anything important with your grandpa tomorrow?"

Gray cleared his throat, hoping his mind would somehow clear from the fog, "No."

"Good. How's the corn coming along?"

She came up and slid her way between his body and the stove, cooking while using Gray's arms to do the work. Eventually he snaked them out of the grip and to her waist.

That rosy flesh was like a battlefield, setting off land mines to his hands.

Lips built like bullets, the apprentice softly launched them at her neck. Dating Claire was different from he could've imagined. The woman was naturally so reserved and defensive, like a pubescent boy with mud stains.

However, behind closed quarters, she blossomed into a butterfly. And as his mouth took its sweet time along her open collar, circling back up to her lips, Claire did nothing but turn around to smile at him.

"What?" His husky voice demanded.

"You like me."

Confused, he crooked a brow, "Obviously?"

The spots where he left kisses made fire pits, "I like your eyes. They're like the blue topaz."

"Uh, thank-"

"And your hair," Gentle fingers ruffled though the ginger mess. "It's nice, too."

"Tha-"

"But everything else about you is repulsive."

Gray rolled eyes at her jokes, "Thanks, Goldie."

He pulled her lips to his. Hands that usually laid tame on the frame of her face now traveled the maps of her body. The roads between her muscles. Like metal, she melted then firmed into the blacksmiths frame. It was so raw, so unfamiliar to have hands touch her pale skin.

She liked it.

Hands warm against the conditioned air brought goosebumps to her flesh. Quickly turning off the burners, Gray moved to sit the petite woman atop the counter where her legs wrapped like bows to a present around his waist. Extending hands to his bold neck, she gradually deepened their affection and mouths. New excitement played wild games with Gray's senses.

"I found Porter outside your door and... Good goddess."

Claire gasped at the sudden intrusion. Blood rushed hard to both cheeks and heat coursed everywhere else in embarrassment.

Gray, though, with anger.

With possessive opposition, the man hid away her body within his own and barked, "Get _out_."

"Is that baked corn?"

"_Now_."

The chicken farmer was pushed aside by the mutt who happily ran inside with muddy paws.

"Ah, no! Porter!"

Peeking to the view beyond Rick, Claire groaned more, "Not again!"

There was a section the field where the corn stalks had been trudged down by from him, which caused the immediate motion of the farmer hopping off and running out to fix the damage.

A furious Gray was left with Rick.

"No harm meant," He quickly chirped.

"Mind. Your own. Damn. _Business_."

"It wasn't on purpose!"

"My ass it wasn't!"

He frowned and crossed both small arms, "What's the big deal, anyway? Having her nearly naked? Maybe I did come in at the right time."

"Fuck off, you prick."

Rick stiffened. It was obvious how the blacksmith had never been too friendly with him, but now it was extending deeper in the well. The man was possessive and selfish, and with Claire, it got worse. Which annoyed the chicken owner, seeing how he cared so much for the girl and was already pained with the thoughts of her being treated like he was with Karen. He didn't want his best friend to be hurt like that. He didn't want her stuck with a thorn in her rose.

"Go."

A slow, unhappy feeling hit with every heartbeat. Claire shouldn't be so unguarded around this man. Nonetheless, they were right. It wasn't his business. Not now.

"Rick."

"_Go_, I know!"

And he did, door slammed behind him. Out in the field, the blonde was hastily repairing the bent stalks.

He hoped she was that good at repairing broken hearts if Gray ever did something.


	8. Chapter 8

**Thank you for all the reviews!**

* * *

**Chapter 8**

Claire's breathing was so labored, her hands had to grip both knees just to keep support.

"Gr...ay..." The farmer complained. "I am... going to die... in here."

"Oh, come _on_," He laughed. "It was a _day_ in the mines."

"An entire... _day_!"

"I do it all the time."

Her gaze shot up to meet his and was followed by her middle finger.

The couple spent the full day, from dawn to now, mining. Thankfully, the weather had cooperated and Claire was able to skip tending to her crops and just do a quick managing with Porter and Brown. Both Gray and Claire started out strong in the mines, and it wasn't until after lunch, and thirty levels down, when Claire began to feel the heaviness of pain in every joint. By this point, all her limbs felt like swollen sacks of air. The blacksmith, the more experienced miner, grabbed both of their tools.

"Can you hurry and get up?"

Her fine eyebrows mashed together, "Gray, I feel... like jello."

"Well, hurry up, Goldie."

A vein bolded in her neck, "I am going to _vomit_ if I have to take another _step_, iron head. So, I suggest, sir asshat, if you don't want me to rip off your arms and beat you to death with them, you _back off._"

Dead air took over, the echos of dripping water consumed their ears, along with her lungs working overtime to breathe. Gray took the time to awkwardly walk around and retrieve her rucksack. Every jewel Claire deemed pretty they put inside. It was clunky and full, and in the dark they still had a shimmer. He took the sack on his back and joined her again, taking his hat off her, running the bangs from her view, and placing it back on.

"Oh, man," Gray wrinkled his nose. "You reek."

"You know what? _Go_, Gray. Let me die in here so I'll never have to see your stupid, overly obnoxious face again."

With a defeated huff, he hooked the hammers and hoes against the tool belt, made a last adjustment to the sack, and gathered his girlfriend so she snuggled into him like a child to mother, legs around waist and arms around neck. When both cool, muddy hands clasped about his neck, he laid a sincere kiss to her jaw, "Let's go."

Absolutely limp in his hold, Claire let the footsteps and tiny ruckuses calm her like a lullaby. The slow and steady rhythm of his heart caused hers to copy that beat in time. Her fingers traced shapes against his chest.

"I know a joke about jello," Gray said. He took her silence as an offering to proceed. "What did the spoon say to the jello?"

Her chest let out a, "Hmph?"

"'I'm barely in you and you're already shaking.'"

Small, tired giggles came out against her will, "You're terrible."

"What can I say, Goldie?" Gray smiled, even though she couldn't see. "You bring out the worst in me."

He was thankful Claire weighed so little. After a dozen floors of walking back up, the air was thinning back out. The surface could be heard as hundreds of thick tears fell from the night sky. He was sure the blonde was sleeping until her lips leaked out a tiny, "Finally."

The rain was fantastic. Cold and heavy. The water dampened their clothes in an instant and the farmer slowly untangled from him. A smile spread onto her features, "We are alive!"

He shook the water from his hair like a dog, "No thanks to you."

"Gray."

Gray stepped back, "We should get going."

"Will you kiss me in the rain?"

Claire could be so forward she'd make the grown man blush. Nonetheless, the request was fulfilled as he cupped her face and obliged. The tired could be felt through her, lips happily and leisurely following behind his. The rain was always a romantic aspect in movies. But he'd never done it before.

Rain brought adrenaline as he kissed her harder. Something always seemed to go off when her lips connected to his. Or when they touched. Or talked. Or glanced. Kissing Claire was just one of life's better pleasures.

They walked hand in hand through the rain, back to her farm. Thunder and lightening flickered.

"They didn't say it'd thunder..."

"No," He mumbled. "They didn't."

The corn stalks and pineapple leaves blew stiff with the wind. Thunder rumbled through the silver clouds and night sky again. Vicious neighing made both of them jump. "Goddess," Claire whispered. "Please don't have this horse be afraid of weather."

And with another crack from the sky, came another angry snarl.

"Are you staying here or going home?"

"As much as I'd love to stay and help you with your mad-horse problem, I... think I'll head out."

"What?" Claire grabbed his arm. "You think I can handle a crazed horse on my own?"

He shrugged, "I need a fresh set of clothes."

"I hate you."

Planting a quick peck on her head, he headed out, "Love you, too. Try not to get eaten."

Every step watching him leave just conjured up more irritation in her joints. With more thunder came an angrier horse, and Claire made her way cautiously inside the stable. Brown was going at the barrels of hay, stomping and destroying the sticks.

"Hey! Calm down!"

Brown shoved his head into her chest.

Maybe barging in and yelling wasn't the best plan for calming a wild horse, Claire decided. With sensitive, gentle fingers, the farmer stroked the short fur upon it's long nose. Heat created steam from his nose, fear mixing into the air. More thunder. Brown shook roughly.

"Come on," Cooed the woman. It took nearly half an hour to properly control the beast and transfer it from the stable to the barn. There was fear that the stable wasn't, well, stable. The building could take a storm on, but something about the screaming and wailing night made homes in the goosebumps of her flesh. The barn seemed like the safest place for her animal. Back in her home, the mutt stood tall and proud upon seeing his owner. She was thankful Porter didn't go berserk with changing weather.

Gray was cleaned up and back in lazy, relaxing clothes. Downstairs, Doug greeted his son with a grin, "How was the trip?"

"Claire got pissy after a few hours."

He snapped a towel on his arm, making Gray flinch and complain.

"Don't be mean to her, son."

"I'm n-"

"Don't say '_I'm not_' when you clearly are. Come on, you pick on the lady more than I'd like in the first place. At least she went with you, most young gals wouldn't dare go near those places. Son, be nice sometimes - at the very _least_."

The boy sighed, "Fine. Yeah, the trip was good. Better than I thought, actually. We got her rucksack full," His mind wandered. "Which reminds me. I should go sort through it."

"What're your plans for them all?"

"Well," A goofy grin slipped on his very angular face. "Claire, uh, wants me to make her something."

Pride filled his father and he grinned back, "Good."

Gray excused himself to the back, wondering where exactly the sack was. The kitchen was empty, the couch was vacant and the hooks on walls were bare. He remembered giving them to Ann when he came in, which meant they were probably in her room.

Upon opening the door, everyone stopped moving.

In the yellow room, in the floral bed, underneath a cheap, sparkling chandelier, was Cliff and Ann.

Naked.

Her brother bellowed over in laughter, unable to control the outburst, "Oh, oh... goodness! Ba! Aha!"

Ann's cheeks faded with blush to the point where her neck even changed under freckles, "_Get out_!"

Gray continued to laugh.

"Gray, you stupid lump of fossilized horse shit! _Get out_!"

"Just wait till dad hears about this!" He snorted.

Cliff gulped loudly while Ann turned beet red, "Don't you _dare_ tell dad, shit face!"

He wiped both eyes from the excessive amount of amusement, warm tears leaking out, "Where are my je-"

"In your room! Now _leave_!"

He slammed the door shut, still overly wowed with his findings, and returned to the under-decorated room. Laying on the blue sheets was the filthy bag and he went to join it. Undoing the buckle, Gray let the sack pour upside down across the blanket. A few other miscellaneous items dropped out: ten gold coins, receipts, a tennis ball and crushed flowers.

Now to decide which gem would work best.

Claire liked blue topaz most. However, Gray knew she hadn't had an exposure to much else.

Several diamonds were scattered about, a few sapphires, ruby's, emeralds. Basic stuff. Each of them examined closely with low lighting and a professional grade spotting scope. Emeralds and ruby's were out of the question - his grandfather could have those. Diamonds would work fantastically with the farmers skin tone, but diamonds were formal things. He examined the last of the blue topaz and sapphires. A very, very peculiar aspect shined about one of them.

Dark, like a sapphire. But clear like a blue topaz.

He bit his tongue, thinking to all the possibilities. In the years of apprenticeship, Gray had been exposed to thousands of common to rare gemstones and metals. His grandpa had a wide array of customers. Which was why he needed to work so hard, every day, for years, just to get near the level his grandpa was barely satisfied with.

Annoyance sparked within him, but with a deep breath he went back to analyzing the unique stone. Dark like sapphire, depths like a topaz...

Tanzanite.

Goddess, he'd just found a tanzanite in the mines. A gem he'd only seen come and go the shop about five times. It was an extremely difficult thing to cut, each one a world and uniqueness of their own. There wasn't a set standard for the stone, nor a stable identification of them. But Gray was absolutely sure. He scooped the rest of the gems back into the bag and went back to examining. He wondered how he could cut this one, what type of metal would go best...

Thunder boomed loud enough this time to break through his concentration with the blue wonder. The lights went out, a tree branch flickered wildly on the bedroom window.

He swore loudly and placed the gem on his bedside table, then ducked into the covers and get some sleep.

The night didn't calm for a minute until the crack of dawn. He, for one, was an incredibly deep sleeper. Storms and thunder made no disruption to his slumber.

During his morning routine of getting ready for work, he passed Cliff and Ann. He laughed and Ann threw a plate at him, which, thankfully, missed and broke against the wall. He yelled out a quick, "Happy Birthday!" and was forced to grab a quick meal and get out of the kitchen. Basil was already inside, going onto his father about the weather.

"Did ya go out at all?"

Doug shook his head, "No need to get frozen in that rain. My son was for a bit, though."

Basil turned to Gray, "Did ya see the way those clouds spun?"

He blinked, slightly shocked, "No?"

"No? Golly, how could ya not! A tornado hit through Forget-Me-Not Valley just over the mountain and came damn near close to Gotz place."

"Is he okay?" Doug begged.

Basil nodded, "Oh, yeah. Talked to the good man this morning, first one I went to after Anna and Mary! He's sure alright, his home's sturdy. A few fallen trees is good business for the man, ya know."

"Good, good."

"But," The explorer tipped his hat. "I went through the farmer's field, yeah? Ruined. Bent like twigs beneath my feet."

"Oh, no," Doug's face grew sullen with worry. "The poor gal, she..."

Gray heard no more, already on his way out and rushing towards Sundrenched farm. Duke and Manna seemed to be leaving from the direction of her farm, and didn't have the happiest of expressions on.

"She's soon to go _kaboom_, boy, I wouldn't suggest-"

"Is she okay?"

Duke nodded, "Fine, physically. But I'm serious when I say I wouldn't go."

But Gray was back to rushing for the farm. Duke and Manna shook their heads, but continued on their walk to examine the rest of Mineral Town.

"Oh, shit," Gray swore beneath both lips. His legs stopped immediately.

Before him was a field in worse condition than when she'd first arrived here. Soil was scattered in millions of odd directions, rocks were suffocating dozens of plants. Large branches penetrated several corn stalks. Nothing was left standing. Everything ruined, crushed, like a nuclear bomb for one. Just thinking about how Claire was feeling right now made his organs tie into large knots.

Carefully, he knocked on the door. He noticed one of the front windows was broken, and Porter began barking madly. It took a few long, heavy moments, but she eventually opened the door.

"Oh, no," She mumbled. It looked like Claire herself had been caught in a tornado. All of that smooth, lengthy hair was tied in a sloppy bun, her midnight eyes matching the storms, outlined by puffy red clouds. She still sported pajamas: baggy grey sweats and a white beater. "Go away, Gray."

"Why?"

"Because," Her small fingers tried to sneak up and wipe a watering eye. "I don't want to talk."

"We don't need to talk."

A tiny cry heaved through her chest and collapsed beneath those pink lips. Both small, creamy hands held and hid away her face. Gray immediately hugged her into his own body, giving her short, comforting coos while warming her in his own grasp.

Rick ran out of his out the instant his eyes found her crying and Gray constricting her. "Hey!" He shouted, puddles snapping at his feet. The blacksmith looked up and threw a deadly look at him.

"If you take another step over here, I will kill you. I will hang your dead body as a new ornament on Claire's farm."

Saying '_Claire's Farm_' sent an immediate cry from her, squeezing tighter into her boyfriend. He bathed her in apologies before shooting a last threatening look at the chicken farmer and closing the door behind them.

It wasn't natural for him to be so soft and nurturing. Gray just sat them on the bed and cuddled his mate into a long, warm embrace. At first, she was evidently holding back the cries. But the more silence that crept in, the more realizations of what had happened and what _was_ going to happen created massive tears and pain from her small frame.

He sprinkled comforting kisses along the structure of her face, wiping away any tears that leaked out, "It'll be okay. You did it once, you can do it again."

"I... just..." Her chest grew with a silent hiccup. "I lost it all."

"No, you didn't."

"But I did!" Claire hugged him closer. "Gray."

"You didn't lose everything. You've still got me, eh? That's gotta be worth something."

"No."

He smiled. At least she was able to make jokes.

"Zack is going to hate me. I won't have anything to send him for this entire season. An entire season. My mom never had to go through this."

He pulled back to hold and look around her face, "You don't have your mom's farm. You have yours."

"Yeah, but," She wheezed. "It sucks. I don't know what to do."

"I'll help."

"No, you won't."

He grinned, "I will. Promise."

Porter joined them on the bed to snuggle into his owner. She sucked a large gulp of air through her nose, leaning her forehead against his.

"I picked out the gem," Gray attempted to distract her. "I can start working on it during my free time when gramps isn't looking."

Claire nodded, "That's good."

He leaned forward just enough to brush their lips together, "Hey. It'll be okay, Goldie. You aren't a quitter. You can make water into wine."

"I'm not the Harvest King."

"No, you're not," Gray pressed his lips into hers and exchanged a few soft, temporary locks of lips. "You're my girl."

Work didn't come easy. Saibara wanted to get everything done early so they could go to Ann's birthday party. Claire went to Zack's for a few hours to discuss the damage and shipping deal for the lasting summer. During break, which only Saibara obliged to himself, he went to check on Claire in her field, and collectd Gray's stones and jewels from the inn. By evening, Gray made his way back over to the farm and easily found her, still on the farm. He told her they'd be going to Ann's party tonight, but the woman quickly rejected the offer.

"Goldie, you need to come and get your mind off things."

"Oh, I'm _sorry_," She stomped the axe down beside her. "Was it _your _farm destroyed to a pulp last night?"

He held back the annoyance he so daringly wanted to express, "You need to come. Ann will be devastated."

"No."

She ended up going, nevertheless, with Gray nearly dragging her the entire distance. She stood stoic, mostly, aside from the obvious anger, in a corner and sipping at some wine. Some of the villagers would break off and send their condolences for her damaged property, and Gotz promised to be over tomorrow to repair her window, free of charge. Ann tried talking to her, but mostly got grunts or silence.

"It's like talking to Gray," The ginger bluntly complained.

She grunted.

Eventually, Claire left late in the evening without the escort of Gray. But rather, Rick.

"I'm sorry about your stuff," He tried making small talk. But she never said a word, barely acknowledged his existence. At his place, she did turn to nod and give a soft, "Night, Rick."

Manna, Anna and Sasha tried dragging her for another ladies day out, out in the big city where all the best shops were. Against her will, Claire went. Nothing about her attitude or actions changed.

Another day, Ann tried spending the day and helping her out in field. She was still apathetic.

It was getting to the point where the farmer would ignore the rest of the villagers, and just live to protect her farm. Brown and Porter were given the majority of her social attention, and everything else was dedicated towards the property. That made her boyfriend increasingly unhappy. Even her attitude was amplified through his own skin, often snapping back and ignoring people. Kai knocked it off as a lovers quarrel, often proceeding to talk about how he'd like to bang her.

If it wasn't for Ann's protection and past dirt on Gray, Kai would have died on several occasions.

"I am sick and tired of this... this bullshit ignorance!" Gray threw some cards that he, Cliff and Kai were using. "She doesn't act the same!"

Cliff shrugged, "Give her time to calm and collect her life, Gray."

"I have given her time! And a shit ton of space, if you ask me! Do you know the last time I heard her call me asshat? Huh? A _week_ ago!"

He was confused, "Uh... isn't that... a good thing?"

"No, because that means she isn't acting like herself!"

Kai cleared his throat for attention, "Flip a card."

They all did.

"I say," The summer-suited man began. "She's on her period."

The other two men scowled in disgust.

"No, she's probably not. However, the babe's a babe, man. A babe needs things."

Gray raised a brow, "You're making no sense."

"You bang her yet?"

"For the love the goddess, I will squeeze your puny skull off of your neck like a damn sucker."

"Guess that means no."

Cliff sighed, "I think what Gray means to say, is that, it is not truly any of your concern, Kai."

He shrugged, "Maybe not, bro. But ya know what? Bangin' a babe always makes everything better."

"For who?" The long-haired man asked.

"Me."

The other two men rolled their eyes and played another card.

"Rick's probably been bangin' up your babe all this week, and you haven't even-"

Gray hit a furious fist into the table, "Say _bang_ and _babe_ in the same sentence again, and I will _bang_ your face back onto the faerie tonight."

Kai sighed, "Ya know, speaking of tonight, I gotta go get those fireworks prepared. You should invite your ba... girlfriend, bro," He smiled and nodded towards Cliff. "Yours, too."

It was actually a good idea, Gray thought, and joined Kai on the way out. They parted with a wave and he headed to Sundrenched farm. Of course, she was outside tending to the field while the animals played around.

"Goldie," He called out. She didn't look up, so he walked towards her. "Goldie."

"Hm?"

"Get up."

She remained squatted on her knees, throwing back a few rocks.

"I said, _get up_."

Another rock was thrown back. The attitude already dug deep and hit a nerve, and he forcibly hauled her up by the pit of her arm. Pushing them against the old oak with its bark still worn from the storm, he held both her wrists and glared, "Listen, Goldie. I have been dealing with your bullshit all week, I've tried helping out, but you ignore me. I try to come over, but you ignore me. I try to talk, but you ignore me. Just _say something_."

Her lips pursed together and her dark eyes met his.

"Claire, you're killing me."

"Good."

"Please."

"Please, what?" Her voice was husky from a fresh awakening.

"Please go with me to the fireworks festival in an hour."

"No," She frowned and avoided his gaze again.

"Why?"

She pulled both tiny wrists from his grip and crossed her arms, "Because I don't like you."

"Bullshit."

"And how do you guess that?"

A large smile grew slowly upon his mouth as he leaned forward and trailed his nose along her soft cheek, "Because, Goldie. You still wear our hat."

And in an hour, she was cleaned up and in fresh shorts, accompanying Gray to the beach. His arm was snaked possessively around her waist, giving most of the small talk and effort when villagers came up and asked about how she was doing. Manna gave an overly long hug, which Claire surprisingly returned. Duke nodded the couple off and they found a private area away from most villagers. Stu and May played in the beach, couples and spouses lined up along the shore and pier, and Kai stood with Zack shouting about the fireworks.

His attention was focused exclusively on Claire, bundled tightly like a package between his legs and strong arms. The warmth of the evening tied in well with a comfortable wind that played at the ends of her golden locks.

The show began.

Over the span of minutes passing, filled with loud bangs and a rainbow assortment of colors, a smile began to coax its way to the normally apathetic farmer. Gray began hunting down her neck and collar with kisses and occasional strokes to her soft hair. And, in time, she turned away from the fanfare and returned the affection.

It was like one of those beautiful firecrackers had somehow crawled its way up her spine and exploded away the shell that was taking her over lately.

Kisses turned from gentle and cautious to greedy and artful.

The amount of emotions couldn't be described properly as one would be quickly replaced by another in Claire's mind. Gray held her firm against, one tense arm compact across her back while the other roamed over silky, barely exposed skin. She held him so close that he could feel the boil of desire in her muscles, in the shortening of her breath, in her kisses that grew more and more reckless. They pulled at each other. She tried to drag him down into pure sensation and abandon, heating every vein in his body. He tried to hold them back, make it last, make it good. It was a struggle they willingly played out with mouths and hands and noises.

She wanted to be sad, wanted to be angry at life for a while. Wanted to be alone and fix things by herself. But her boyfriend was just too stubborn, and though he didn't win many of the battles, he'd won the war.

A hand trailed from her neck to shoulder, mouth cascading slowly to nip at the flushed skin upon her neck. He felt her swallow and it raised hundreds of goosebumps on his heated flesh.

With the blare of several fireworks igniting and glowing against her, the blacksmith immersed their lips back together. The heat between each moist mouth excelled the quicken of their lips. Leisurely, each enjoyed the other.

Gray chuckled when she dragged rosy lips down his jaw and to his throat, "I missed you."

"That's nice," She sealed the words with a kiss at the center of his throat.

With time, the couple mused themselves completely to each other, laying on the ground and trading between physical affection and conversation. They didn't notice or care that the festival ended, or that the beach was finally deserted.

"Goldie, your farm is looking great. It really is."

"Thanks."

He kissed her nose.

"How's your work coming along?"

"I work hard, grandpa still gives me shit. The usual."

"Well," The blonde cuddled their faces closer. "I'm proud of you."

"Thanks," He pulled the both of them up. "Now let's head home. You still reek."

"You still repulse me."

"Glad to know you're back to normal."


	9. Chapter 9

**I usually don't openly respond to reviews because they tend to take up a lot of fake word space in chapters, and annoy lots of people who just want to read. BUT, this review is just too good.**

**Nadeezhdaa, seriously. Every time I read your review, it makes my day. I laugh so hard. Sex is a bit of a complicated scene to bring up, because it's still quite early and this is rated T. But I promise I will satisfy your request soon enough. Thank you so much for the review.  
**

* * *

**Chapter 9**

"You have six, maybe... seven seasons to live."

Doug looked down to his father-in-law and held his lungs together tightly. There was no reaction from Saibara and Doctor Trent continued.

"We've been able to conceal and tame the disease from a long time now, but it's finally turned into pulmonary fibrosis. We can still try medicines, of course, and treatments to keep you in a stable condition for as long as possible. But... we cannot cure this. With your age and health, it would only lead us to dead roads... I'm sorry, Saibara."

All three men nodded and unison, conversation finally over. When Trent walked away, wishing them a goodnight, they left and slowly shuffled in the streets.

"Do we tell the kids yet?"

"No."

Doug nodded, "We should probably start discussing arrangements... but another night, perhaps."

He grunted and stayed silent. It seemed like only yesterday his wife and daughter had passed away. It was finally his time. There was no regret, just worry. The blacksmith had been his pride and joy for so many decades now and his grandson was only so fresh at the job. Just over a decade of experience - a grain of sand compared to his castle. Behind the apprenticeship was the apprentice himself. Gray still had so much growing up to do, he was only a fresh bud to this life. Fresh, but firm. His grandson had been the one to care for his grandmothers last days, nurse their mother in the city until her last days, too. By the time Gray was ten, he'd already seen the two greatest women in his life die so easily after long wars.

Then there was his precious jewel, Ann. There was nothing in this universe he spoiled more than the beautiful youngin'. Her birth, just three years after Gray's, was a day he'd never forget. Those bright blue eyes blinking at his dozens of times before a wide smile perked upon those cherry lips. They were so close from the start, Annie was like another version of his own daughter.

Now she was grown and naively in love with a poor boy. Goddess, did that shock him. He didn't openly disprove but that didn't mean he couldn't make the boy uncomfortable. Love, they may have, but not stability. It wasn't traditional for a wife to take main responsibility for the income. The thought settled very unhappily for him.

The inn was already closed by the time the men returned. Through the back and into the kitchen, Doug and Saibara settled into the oak table and spoke lowly of the conditions.

Ann relaxed in her room with Claire, painting a smooth coat of pinks and blues on their nails. The TV played for background noise and they comfortably laid back in bean-bag chairs.

"When was the last time you did something like this?"

The farmer shrugged, "Goddess, I have no idea. But it feels awesome."

Ann agreed, "Ah, yeah."

They watched the movie and she pointed something out, "You look like her."

"Who?"

"You."

"Me?"

"Yeah," Ann clarified. "You both have hair longer than your ass and live in a tower."

"I don't live in a tower."

"Oh."

The farmer gazed the the clock, "I haven't stayed up this late since I got here."

"You work too much. It's good you came here for tonight, 'cause I was beginning to wonder if you still had any friends aside from those old moms."

"Not really."

Ann sat up and brushed through her wavy, auburn locks, "Mary isn't half bad. She's silent but cool. Popuri and Karen are gross, but you already know that. And Cliff is the best."

"Cliff and I talk lots when we gather for cards. Kai, too."

"And Gray."

Claire smiled, "And Gray."

"He really likes you, ya know," She focused on a certain knot with the brush. "I asked him."

"I'm shocked. I had no idea."

"I know. Just thought you should be informed. Hey, can I brush your hair next?"

Her pale shoulders bounced, "I don't care."

There is nothing better in the universe than having someone care for your hair, Claire was convinced. Immediately, when the brush soaked into her locks, a new sense of comfort eased it's way through her skin. She wasn't used to the feeling of strangers hands soothing out the tangles in her mess. Ann had incredibly warm skin and it helped relax her even more.

"Why did you move here? Gray told us your dad was the mayor of Waffle Town."

"My mom's a farmer and it's in my blood to do it. I guess, after a while, I was tired of the place. I just wanted a new scenery, a place of my own."

"Why?"

Her eyes shut, thinking of what felt like seasons ago she first told her parents about wanting to leave. "I think I just wanted an adventure."

"My dad took me to Waffle Town one time when I was a lot younger, when Gray still lived in the city. I thought I was going to get free waffles. Total misconception. Tell your dad to change the name to something, like... No-Waffle Town."

Claire's eyebrows contorted, "Gray lived in the city?"

"Yeah," Ann began piecing the blonde strands apart for a braid. "With our mom and granny. He took care of them while I stayed here to help dad. But I think he moved here when I was, like... eight or nine, or something."

She relaxed back into her friend, "What was wrong with them?"

"My grandma," The ginger swore and restarted the french braid. "Had cancer. She made grandpa stay here with my dad. My mom took Gray and they cared for her. Lung cancer, I think it was. She actually lived longer than my mom."

"And what happened to her?"

"Her and Gray got into a huge car accident with a drunk. She hurt her back and was paralyzed, and her neck also broke. I think it was only a month or so until she died of it, but Gray only had some serious stomach problems. He's got a huge scar there, if you've ever seen it."

"No... I haven't."

"You guys haven't done it?"

It seemed like a rather repulsive way to change the subject, "No."

"Don't worry, I wouldn't do him if I were you, either."

Claire wasn't sure how to interpret the statement, "Uh, that's... reassuring?"

By the end of the braid, they both began to feel the heavy of their eyelids and drifted to a steady sleep towards the end of their movie. Neither of them realized the unnatural and disjointed positions they were tangled into until the crack of dawn, where the farmer was woken up with some heavy snoring going off beside her ear.

"Shut up, Ann," Her voice cracked. Another loud, husky snore fell out of the ginger. "Ann, shut up."

Another snore, and even worse than before. They only continued to increase in vocal and length. Looking over at the clock, Claire whimpered and took a deep breath. Three hours of sleep to start off the brand new season. Three hours of sleep to fuel one of the _busiest_ days in the season. Coffee was what she needed, and lots of it. Her tired feet contrasted against the cooler wood floor as she headed out and into the kitchen. Inside was Kai, eating some fruit by himself and perking up.

"Well, if it ain't my favorite farmer."

"Hey, Kai."

"Didn't know you were over here."

"Ann and I had a sleepover," She explained, clumsily searching the cupboards for coffee beans.

A sly smirk showed behind the orange, "Sleepover, eh? I think I missed o-"

An apple hit his face.

"Ow. Right. Missed nothing."

"Why is there no coffee?" Claire moaned. Kai shrugged and opened his arms out.

"Hug me."

"No."

He rolled both muddy eyes, "A goodbye hug. Summer's over. I'm heading out for the tropics to get some ultra-bangable dancing ladies action."

She held back a laugh and hugged him tight, "I hate to say it, but I'll miss you, buddy."

"Ey, that's the spirit. I'll miss my little foxy farmer, too. Don't let Gray knock you up before I come back, okay?"

"Burn in hell."

"Foxy _and_ sassy farmer."

He picked up both purple suitcases and nodded her off. She frowned, "Aren't you going to wait for the others to wake up before you head off?"

"Nah, man. I told them all goodbye last night. I gotta get the morning faerie so Popuri won't follow me out like last year..." His tan skin shivered just with the thought. "Can't wait for those tropical babes."

"Have a safe trip, wherever you go."

He smiled, and she had to admit, it was handsome, "Thanks. Better luck on your farm this season."

The room was vacant and silent again. Her chest did a single heave before turning back to the oak shelves in search for the much needed caffeine. Even through the walls, she could hear Ann snoring.

There was plenty of alcohol, tea and cocoa in plain sight. Where the coffee was, exactly, remained a mystery. She could head home now and make some of her own, but then again, the coffee here was probably so much better. The choice was to be patient for Doug in hopes of some fabulous caffeine, or go home now and have her stale drink and get working on the field.

The field could wait.

But what to do to pass the time. There was no way she was heading back into Ann's for her breathing attacks, and the kitchen just felt more awkward by the minute to stand alone in.

Gray's it was.

Very lightly, hoping not to disturb the two neighboring rooms, Claire knocked. And knocked again. But as the air grew stale and a bit bothered, she let herself in. The TV gently played the lights of the room and an underlining scent of cologne set a masculine tone. Gray was fast asleep in his own bed and freelanced across the entire mattress. Slowly, Claire tip toed her way over and carefully nudged on his shoulder. She remembered doing this to her father as a kid when she couldn't find sleep on her own.

"Go away, dad," His husky voice muttered.

"I'm not your dad, asshat."

His brows scrunched together before peeking open with one eye to look up at her, "What are you doing here?"

"Ann wouldn't stop snoring and there's no coffee and I'm lonely."

Swiftly, he opened his blankets and invited her in. The bed was incredibly warm and comforting to her skin as Claire snuggled in to his body.

"Dad doesn't make coffee until 8 a.m. and he hides it from Annie every day."

"Makes sense."

In his hold, she felt extremely tiny and weak. The sheer size of his muscular arms that defined, even without the slightest effort, put her twig-like arms to shame. Curiosity made her gently stroke his bare arms, then his large hands - she'd held those hundreds of times now - then back up his arm and up his sleeve, just enough to tease with the fabric.

"You should have spent the night with me, instead. I think it would have been more fun."

Her rosy lips perked, "_Fun_?"

He kissed her very gently and grinned beneath it, grabbing both of her hands and placed them on his chest, right to his heart and let the beat sink in between them. They shared air while both noses crossed and lips barely touched. Time felt so much slower and eventually Claire began kneading the muscles of his chest, causing his breathing speed up, growing deeper yet more constricting with each beat of his heart. Her hands were still cool from the night and Gray shivered while they ran into his cotton shirt and across his abdomen. He nearly groaned with frustration as they veered off to wrap around his waist, and he pulled the farmer closer to make up for it, trying to reduce the demanding need to have her touch him.

The scar, she noticed, was on his left.

There were questions bubbling on the tips of every taste bud, but she held them and instead, let the feeling of protection seep in. Gray was naturally the type to protect his territory to the end. Proof showed up time after time. However, she wanted him to be safe, and the scar just filled her belly with tar and butterflies.

Gray grazed his nose against her soft, warm neck, "How much do you love me?"

She swallowed sharply, the question so haphazard, yet not unwelcome, "I don't know."

"That's not an amount."

"Ten."

"Ten?"

"Yes."

He lifted up to look her in the eyes. Eyes that were laced with impeccably long lashes he now noticed, "You love me ten?"

Her fingers gently guided along his skin, from hairline to collar, "Sure. How much do you love me?"

"A good amount."

"Why do you ask?"

"Because you came into my bed, have been staring at me seductively for a good five minutes now, and I can only hold out so long before I do something."

She threw him back with one hand against the part where the wall and bed edge met and yanked down on his hair with the other. A quick, searing pain wailed through his neck.

"_Gah_. Shit, Goldie."

"Sorry," She whispered, then sealed her lips over his again, and he suddenly didn't care if she beat him to death. As long as he could still taste the softness of her lower lip.

He filled both greedy hands with the rise of her hips, then slid back to cradle the curve of her back. She gasped at the contact, then again as he massaged her flesh, then again as he pulled her tight, holding her so she could feel every inch of him pressed against her. For a second they stayed like that, breathing heavily, eyes squeezed closed, the heat of their desire and the discord of their inaction building, drawing them together, making her fingers claw against his back. She couldn't restrain herself for long and claimed his mouth with power that would probably leave her lips swollen.

This made up pretty well for the lack of coffee.

Gray grinned, and he leaned in to press his lips to hers, softer this time. Once. Twice. Her lips parted, the ghost of their movements still making their way to her senses. As his hand trickled beneath her shirt and basked in the warmth of her flesh, Claire sighed warmly into his open mouth.

The steady stream of kisses he dragged across her skin made her mind pause and pulse go faster. They were such a physically focused couple, but watching his eyes explore every inch of her made Claire want to hold him there forever and whisper sweet nothings.

Which was absolutely insane and sappy.

"Gray?"

Those blue eyes redirected for hers, "What?"

"I like you."

He smirked and drifted back up to meet their eyes, "Good."

"You make me feel safe."

"Good."

"It's a Thursday, you should come and help me on the farm."

He groaned and complained, "I need a day off, Goldie."

"So do I. But you don't see me complaining, asshat."

"Only because you've got too much horse shit in your mouth to speak through."

Her lips tightened, "At least I don't have an iron rod shoved through my brain."

"At least my breath doesn't pay for it in the morning."

In a swift motion, Claire kicked herself up and marched through the room, "Rick won't care about my breath."

Just the name sent his brain haywire and into high alert. Just like Claire, he shot up and out of the bed and quickly slid some shoes on before chasing after her and shouting, "What's that supposed to mean?"

The blonde was already out of the place and Doug was in the kitchen, sending his son a questioning face. He ignored it and stomped out. The wind was very weak and played with the ends of her messy braid.

"Goldie, what the hell's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," She loudly declared.

"Don't _nothing_ me. Just... stop!"

"No!"

He stalked behind, only a few feet away, "Stop acting like a woman!"

"Like a... are we really going over _this_ again, you ungrateful bastard?"

Old man Barley curiously came out of his home and waddled towards the couple. He chuckled, "Young love."

Barley was losing his mind, and Claire raised a brow, "Uh, hey, Barley. Where are you headed to?"

"Oh, the supermarket, my good friend," He smiled, teeth missing. "You cannot raise a girl without rice for breakfast! For shame that a donkey cannot breed, but that does not mean he is still not ugly!"

"Uh.."

"Oh, look at that!" He laughed. "A shoe!"

Sparkling from a brush was a shoe buckle. It was a beautiful heel but ruined by weather. Prada, blue, and a size six. Claire knew just by that, that it was Sasha's. But why her shoe was lost under some plants was beyond her.

"Pretty little thing. May loves heels like that, I got her a pair just last week. Why, speaking of May, would you mind watching her for the day?"

Claire frowned, "I'm sorry, Barley, but it's the start of autumn. I'll be busy all day planting my seeds."

"Nonsense, Gray can help you! Ah, May will love this. Wonderful, thank you, deary. Ya know," Barley nudged Gray while moving past. "Good practice for when the two of you start having more babies than you know what to do with."

They both drained with color and then blushed fully. Gray stammered and Claire cleared her throat, "Uh..."

"I'll drop May off after breakfast. Good day, Mister and Misses Gray!"

Neither of them was sure what to do next. Barley had set a new, awkward atmosphere for them and it wasn't until Gray coughed that anyone knew how to continue, "I, will, uh... get changed. Then I'll, um... meet you back here. To help with May. N-Not for practice, just to help, because you'll probably need help. Not for raising kids, I mean with her. But, well, you'll need help raising the kids, too, but... not, like, you will have any kids soon, or have them now, or anything like that. And I'm not implying that they _have_ to be mine, but I don't mean that they _don't_ have to be mine, either, because I love you now and-"

"Gray."

"Yeah, I think I'll shut up."

"Good. Bring me coffee and food when you come back."

"Okay."

"Okay."

"Alright."

"Bye."

"Bye."

* * *

**I'd like to take another amount of space to ask you all something. So, I've been wanting to start another Harvest Moon fic and thought I'd do a VaughnxChelsea one, all written from Vaughn's POV. But Chelsea and Vaughn are such a popular couple, I'm not sure that's the best idea. It has it's pro's and con's either way, but I'd really like to do another fic from the male's perspective throughout. **

**What I want to ask, is, do any of you have a preferred Harvest Moon couple you'd like a fic about? **

**Tell me via review or message, or email, and I'll be sure to come up with a decision. It would help me out so much.  
**


	10. Chapter 10

**I got a question in review that I will confirm outright: This story is, will continue, and remain T rated.**

**Continue with the couples decision, and soon enough I'll make an announcement of the one I'll do.**

* * *

**Chapter 10  
**

The fifth of Fall was always a hard time to get through for the Innkeeper's family.

On Mother's Hill, Doug, Ann, Cliff, Saibara, Carter, Gray and Claire all stood and let the day soak in. At first, Claire had told Gray that she'd stay back and allow for him to take care of the personal matters without her intrusion. But against her will, he actually insisted, nearly pleaded, for her to join. There was no way she could have denied the offer.

Ann let her bright hair lay loose today, sporting a modest dress while standing next to her boyfriend, who dressed as formal as he had. Doug joined Carter up front, holding his breath before whispering a very sweet, lengthy prayer. Gray transitioned from holding his lovers hand to her waist, pulling her to his front and using her presence as comfort.

The languid elder joined the prayer and kiss both palms, then whispering something only for Doug's ears.

Time trickled slowly, like the grey clouds rolling above them.

The priest was always a close family friend. He always prepared well for the fifth, right after the town's Music Festival. Giving serenity and thanks to the Goddess while giving worship to their lost mother, lost wife, lost daughter.

Each year they let a tiny portion of her ashes free from Mother's Hill during a family prayer.

Cliff and Claire were new additions this year. Yet, Saibara couldn't help but feel like they'd be permanent members. Cliff was not his cup of tea, but he was Ann's, and therefore, he'd never voice his opinion. Claire, though, his little hardworking farmer, was already making a home in his old heart. She was a woman, she was stable, she was strong and determined. She didn't care to put Gray in his place, and she had no idea how the boy was transforming to fit around her fingers. With her, he was turning into a man.

He turned to analyze the couple. Gray wore his pressed khaki slacks and white button down, but his hair still in its usual array. The petite lady should have seemed so nibble within his hold, but it was quite the opposite. As if she were somehow the energy he was using right now. In her darker dress, they were a stunning couple.

"We thank our Harvest Goddess, thank our mighty Harvest King," Carter calmly blessed.

"Amen," Everyone else whispered.

"And bless the holy spirit of our lost, but forever loved, Annabell."

"Blessed be."

Carter handed Doug the urn and with a tiny handful, the widower let them fall down and blow with the wind beyond the edge. Carter took his holy water and blessed his forehead, then Saibara's. They stayed rooted while going to Ann and Cliff, blessing them and whispering a happy comment to his friends. Last came the other couple, Gray blessed first and by the forehand and heart, then Claire by the forehead and, just like Ann, blessing her hips.

"Rest peacefully, dearest Annabell."

With a deep intake, the blacksmith's apprentice decided to leave first at the end of their ceremony and walk through the woods with his farmer. They didn't say much of anything for a long hour, Claire wasn't sure if there was anything to say. The only person close to her that she ever lost was her grandfather, Hamilton. That felt like so long ago, she wasn't sure if the pang of death could be the same, if she could comfort him in any manner that she knew.

"I love you, Gray," She eventually whispered by the time he rejoined her in hand.

He responded with a sincere kiss on the forehead.

She spent the entire day with him, they played with Porter back at the house and cooked him a large dinner. Since Ann came around, she could cook better and with a larger variety of recipes. With the few crops she harvested before the giant storm, Claire made his all-time favorite and washed up after.

By midnight, he was still over and the only one awake.

She was asleep, laying on top of his body on the couch while the mutt snored on the recliner. He ignored the TV and just reveled in the beauty of her. Even her peacefulness was beautiful.

Goddess, something about her being there. Always. It swelled his veins and made everything inside of him work just a bit faster. That, and the feminine curve and ungodly length of her legs. They always caused a speed bump inside.

He could never let what happened to his mother happen to her. Every day, every minute, he'd make sure she was safe. Claire wasn't just a girl, a fling, a person. Claire was _that_ woman, _that_ love, that _life_ he, though not openly admitting, was being sewn into his ever flesh fiber. Which was completely ludicrous: they'd only been together for a season. Known each other for two. Yet time was no factor, didn't change his feelings, didn't calm the storm he yearned for, ached for, so badly. The way her form fit so beautifully with his, physically and mentally. They were both strong and stubborn, protective and realistic. He always assumed opposites would attract, that he and someone like, maybe Mary, would eventually hit it off. He couldn't imagine him being with anyone but Claire now, and more importantly, couldn't imagine her with anyone but him. He would love her, protect her, even if there wasn't ever going to be a rational reason why.

Everyday after the fifth felt full. Claire was so focused on her farm during the day that he'd spend just as much time and effort in the 'smith just to feel manly. The work had somehow increased in quality, and by a margin, Saibara noticed. They argued less, they talked more. He'd watch the young man stay extra hours to work meticulously on the tiny chain and pendant he recently found out about, and he hated to admit it, so he wouldn't, but it was turning out to be quite the piece.

"When are you giving that to her?" He sipped some of the warm tea.

"Her birthday's on the 13th."

"The Full Moon festival."

"Yeah," He looked up. "I think it'd be a good present. Did you... wanna, uh... what I mean is, could you look over it, just to make sure it's, um, going good?"

Now Gray was actually willing to get assistance? The universe must be collapsing, Saibara thought. Nonetheless, he got up with a few joints wheezing in protest and carefully made his way over to examine. Seconds seemed incredibly slow, like they went from milk to molasses.

"There's a few loops on the left that are slightly off and larger than the right side."

"That it?"

"What jewel is this?"

"A tanzanite."

"Where on earth did you find a tanzanite?"

"The mines with Claire." He changed his stare from the pendant to his grandson. He shifted uncomfortably beneath the everlasting glance, "What?"

"You're very lucky to have met her."

He opened his mouth a few times, but wasn't sure how to answer, "I'm not sure if that's an insult or not."

His beard lifted and cheeks wrinkled with a smile, "Go, boy. You've already stayed late enough."

Gray frowned, "Was it an insult?"

Saibara turned to sit back on the couch and shook his head, "Tell Claire I say hello."

It was easy to know his schedule these days. Mornings at the inn, work at the blacksmith, lunch with Claire, back to work, back to Claire's and sometimes, back at the Inn before midnight.

Porter barked madly when he came in without knocking, but quickly ran up to pounce on him with excitement. The mutt was already to his hips standing on all fours - and fully grown, they hoped. Claire shouted for him to get down, and he quickly obeyed and joined her beside the table.

"What're ya doing?" Gray asked, shutting the down behind him and kicking both boots off.

"Reading."

"Mind if I use your shower?"

"Go ahead," She looked up for a second to nod and presumed reading. For some reason, they seemed to share the house. The top drawer of her closet was already all his, and he pulled out fresh home clothes and disappeared into the restroom. He liked the scent of her home, the scent of her bathroom. Her washes and scents just made him feel engrossed between her blood and skin, somewhere he rarely wanted to leave, or for that matter, ever did.

When he left the bathroom, the leftover steam rolled out and he reveled in the cool air that hit his heated skin. The clock read 9:00pm and he scuffed across to the kitchen for a drink. The home was empty. Her book, which he now noticed had a picture of a field and was titled "_Farming 101: Crops, Weather and Everything Together!_," was splayed open on the table.

Porter came running back in first and barked a few times, his collar jingled, and went directly to his food dish.

Claire calmly shut the door and kicked the boots back off, "It's getting colder out."

"Need me to warm you up?"

"Need me to sock you in the face?"

He made his way over and scooped her swiftly in his arms, then into the bed. He wrapped those long, smooth legs around his waist and crossed their noses.

"No."

"I think you do."

"No, not really."

"Tell me you love me, then."

Instead, Gray took her face within both palms and turned their heads for an extensively deep kiss. His damp hair stuck and cooled her fingers and Claire ran both hands to grip the back of his head.

The dog perked up and noticed the roughhousing and barked happily before racing from the couch and pouncing on the bed. He barked and barked, scratched to join the fun and ended up snuggling into a big ball on Gray's feet.

Gray had been keeping his temper is pretty good check for having such a short temper, but this type of interruption always happened. Always. It was like the Goddess set up a line for them never to cross and guaranteed it. He swore profusely and balled both hands behind her back.

"Calm down, asshat."

"What, you're not bothered by this?"

"By Porter?"

"No, by_ this_. It always happens to us."

"I don't follow."

"Whenever we have alone time, something always stops us. There's never _us_ time, there's always _us and something else_ time."

Her scent glued on his skin as she teased with a kiss on the nose, "You're just testy and impatient."

"And you aren't?"

"I'm a woman, I can hold out as long as I want to."

Gray frowned.

Claire sighed and could feel a tinge of guilt for the amount of teases they'd been through. He did have his natural, testosterone endorsed feelings that were instinctual, but he also had a heart for her. There was always a societal pressure of waiting for the next step in a relationship - especially in a tight-knit village like Mineral Town - but that failed to faze the farmer. A relationship was something between two people and their own paces, and theirs seem to match up pretty well as far as she could tell.

There was a part of her that wanted to say words, but she didn't know what words to say.

The logical thing to do was just show him with a few kisses and touches and squeezes and smiles. He remained pouting and staring angrily at some distant thing in the wall.

"Hey."

He grunted.

"It's okay, you big softy."

"I'm not a softy."

She snorted, "Best line I've heard all day."

Quickly, he hugged her closer and sucked a small kiss to the nape of her thin neck, "Only for you, and not a single other person."

"Oh?"

"I don't know why either, you're pissy and moody and rude."

"That's always what a woman wants to hear in bed."

He turned to turn off the bedside light and let his other senses take over and inform him of her presence, "Goodnight, Goldie."

"'Night, Gray."

As usual, he slept heavy and fully through the night. Claire needed to wake him up an hour before their usual time so he could get up and head back to the inn before Doug would wake up and notice he wasn't there at night. With a weak and lazy kiss, he groggily wished Claire a good morning and told her they'd meet later and left the farm.

The morning was cool and birds chirped here and there, much less than they would have earlier in the year. The inn was locked, of course, and he unlocked it as quiet as possible, taking a long time to both open and close the door. The aged floor wheezed beneath his tip-toeing and he swore.

"Having trouble there, son?"

Gray cursed silently and stiffened. Doug was behind the counter, looking up from the newspaper, clearly anticipating a response.

"Was just, uh, getting some fresh air."

"I bet. An all night breather? Do you feel better?"

"I did."

"Did?"

"Did."

The older man sat down his paper and, by all means, Gray wished he hadn't. The look in his eyes, being absolutely livid, felt like hammers being smacked against his spine, "Sit down."

He complied.

"I know where you were, and hell, I know where you've _been_. So don't sugarcoat and bullshit me, son."

"We didn't do anyt-"

"Don't lie, I was once your age too, you know."

"We didn't do-"

"Gray. Look me in the eyes."

He complied again.

A heavy dose of fear pounded into him through the glare and his father nearly snarled, "If you've stolen that girl's innocence, Gray, I will never let you out of my sights again."

"Dad, I haven't!"

"Don't you get that tone with me!" He waited until his son grunted an apology and looked down at his curled hands. "You tell me the truth before I find out myself. I respect that woman too much for you to be so immature with her."

Between grinding teeth, Gray mumbled, "I swear we haven't done anything. Last night I went there after work, showered and we went to sleep."

Doug glared.

"I swear! Ask the damn dog!"

Silence lingered for an agonizing minute before he sighed, "And the other nights?"

"Basically the same. I go over, we eat, walk, whatever we wanna do and go to bed. To sleep. That's it."

His father scratched his mustache and sighed, "Claire is very important to us."

"I know."

"Claire is very important to you."

"I know."

"I don't need to be a grandfather anytime soon."

Gray scoffed, "Dad, we aren't doing anything."

"So you say."

"And I mean it!"

"_Tone_, Gray!"

He mumbled more apologies.

"Now get ready for work. You're lucky I'm not telling your grandfather, he'd have your skin in a second."

He rushed up and into the kitchen, and Doug sighed into both palms. He believed his son, but he feared that things wouldn't stay that way for much longer. Gray was impatient and too blind in the presence of that woman, he saw nothing else but her when she was around. It had its advantages and consequences, and it still seemed like they were both so young and unready.

Manna, Anna and Sasha worked furiously on the morning of Claire's birthday. Duke stood on the sidelines with Doug, Jeff and Basil. Cliff was out with Ann, helping Claire with the farm while Gray worked hard on the last touches of the pendant and chain. Cliff and Claire had become much better friends since the start of the season when he actually found a job at the Winery, thanks to her asking Duke and Manna.

Rick ran out of his house and to the field in seconds with a box in hand.

"Claire!"

She shot up in shock and looked around.

"Happy Birthday!"

"You scared the dirt out of me!"

His lanky legs ran through the field and he apologized to Ann for flicked dirt with his feet. With a large grin, he held out a box, "Happy Birthday!"

A smile crawled on her and she took it, "Thank you, Rick."

"Open it!"

"Okay, okay. Goddess," She took off the gloves and went at the box. Cliff and Ann stared a few feet away, and with so much shock, heard life from the box. The farmer peeked inside and smiled. "I would have never guessed. A chicken."

"Yeah! It's to start off your livestock! But you have to take really good care of her. Many out there do not realize the complexity of a chickens basic needs and desires for staying happy, healthy, and producing very good eggs in return, because..."

In the next ten minutes, Claire heard more about chickens than people should ever have to suffer through for an entire life time.

"And next year you can sign her into the Chicken festival!"

"Yeah..."

"Happy Birthday!"

"Thanks, Rickie."

He blushed and nodded, "Anything for my best friend."

"Anything?"

"Uh..."

"Come on, go set up the coop to your standards. I had that thing upgraded back in Spring and haven't used it since."

"Alright!" He happily grabbed the box and rushed into the coop. Ann gave a wide, annoyed, bewildered stare at the blonde.

"Is he planning on marrying chickens or something?"

Cliff chuckled softly.

"Karen does cluck a lot."

"Truth!"

Claire resumed back to the farm and tended to each one of the crops with care, knowing she had time with the extra hands today. The green peppers were turning out beautifully, as were the sweet potatoes and eggplant. Fall was probably her least favorite season for farming because it seemed so limited, but they were often anticipated ingredients for chefs.

Noon rolled on and passed, the sun falling towards the horizon again. Ann and Cliff left with a simple wave and the farmer returned inside for a long shower. Tonight was the Full Moon festival and Gray suggested she dress slightly better than her casual attire.

With brushed, golden locks and clean skin, the birthday girl rummaged for something decent.

There was furious knocking on the door, and she sighed deeply when answering.

Manna came rushing in, babbling away and throwing some sort of cloth in her face. Claire stood on spot, listening to the happy ranting and wondered what was going on.

"Well, go! Put it on!"

"What?"

Manna slapped her forehead, "Sweetie, go put the dress on."

"What dress?"

Her blunt, black locks shook with her head as she rushed over to pick it off of the floor at her feet and shoved it against her shoulders, "This one! Oh, just like Sasha said. Stunning. Look at that."

"Sasha?"

"Go! On! Now!"

She changed in front of her in a rush with total confusion and awkwardly adjusted herself. Dresses, Claire thought, were a curse from above. This one hugged her too closely and made her feel thicker.

"This looks stupid."

Her friend was already running back with a hairbrush and straightening everything out.

"Ow!"

"Hush!"

Once that was done, she scurried for the closet and complained about her lack of fashion interest and materials.

"All you have are boots?"

"Yeah."

"That's fine, I brought you some shoes."

And out of her dress pocket came a pair of womanly shoes.

"Oh god. Those look incredibly death-delivering and uncomfortable."

"They're flats!"

"They what?"

Her tiny chest heaved, "Oh, you're hopeless, honey!"

Not even a minute later, Manna was dragging them down the brick roads and insisting Claire stopped asking any questions and just kept happy.

"I'm not happy. You take the _happy_ out of _happy birthday_."

"Happy Birthday, dear!"

"Thanks."

They came to a halt at the Inn doors and Manna turned to adjust everything on herself and the young woman a last time, "I do these things because I love you very much, Claire Bear. So don't you disappoint me."

"Uh..."

The doors pushed open and cries of Happy Birthday's came roaring out. Balloons were everywhere and she could barely see past the flying confetti.

"Good Goddess..."

"I love you, Clairey!" The mock-mom shouted and the farmer was engulfed into the crowd. First came Anna and Sasha, flooding her with coos and compliments on her appearance. Next was Elli and her crew of Trent, Ellen May and Stu who happened to already be well into their fun. Barley and Saibara gave great hugs to her, and she was passed along to Carter, then Rick's entire family. Rick gave a hug much longer than anyone could be comfortable with. He whispered dozens of praises and compliments in her ear. Mary asked about the book and Won tried selling her some rare goods. Gotz, Harris, Mayor Thomas, Jeff, Basil and Duke were all in a section and patted her back and congratulated her. Doug joined them, followed by an overly excited and well-dressed Ann and Cliff.

"Happy Birthday, Claire!"

"Thanks," She shouted. The crowd was increasing in volume.

"Manna, Sasha and Anna planned this all!"

"I can tell."

"Gray's in the kitchen."

After several more minutes of forced conversation with villagers pestering their way for a talk, she made her way into the back and saw a double layered cake along with a nicely dressed Gray. He looked up at her and smiled.

"I hate you."

"Happy Birthday."

"I hate you."

He took a few long strides across the room and mended their lips together, "You look great."

"Why are you back here?"

"I'm not partial to crowds."

"And I am?"

"I was also fixing up a few things," He laced their hands together. "Now come on, let's have fun."

Contrary to her will, Claire actually did enjoy herself. The villagers were kind and many drinks were on the house. The three housewives gossiped like wild and loved having a public view of Gray with Claire. The juicy talks about Zack and Lillia also filled for a good portion of their night. Ann took shots with Cliff when Doug wasn't looking, Rick would dance with Karen and glance at Claire too often. Things were just... fun.

"Let's go out and watch the moon," Gray whispered low and close to her ear upon reuniting themselves. The blonde agreed and they slipped out of the inn and into the night. Stars were nearly lost in comparison to the moon. They gazed the entire way while walking to her home.

It was gorgeous.

The contrasting night sky with the bright orb sent hundreds of goose bumps to her flesh, along with his occasional hand squeezes.

"It's amazing."

"Never seen it like this before?"

She shook her head, "No, we don't have this back at home. Other stuff, but not this."

"I'm glad I could be your first," They both blushed. "I-I meant-"

The excitement of the night came flooding out with their crashing lips. They backed into her house's wall and Gray ran and knotted all fingers through her silky locks. She tasted like cake and champagne. Too good to resist.

And then he was lifting her, pulling her close, and she was climbing him like a tree, hooking her leg over his arm for support and raising herself up until she was the taller one and he had to look up to find her lips. He buried his face against her neck, leaving a hot trail down to her collar bone, leaving a bite mark against her breast that had her squeezing him tight between her legs.

"Inside," She huffed.

He obeyed instantly and let her kisses continue as he opened, let Porter run out and locked it behind him.

Her tiny, cold fingers urgently untangled from his hair and started on his shirt buttons.

"Wait."

"No."

"Wait, I have your gift," He was breathing heavy and laid her across the bed. Irresistible, but he had to for a few minutes. Out of his pocket came a tiny box that he handed over.

"It's not a chicken, is it?"

"No?"

In a fluid motion, she undid the blue ribbon and took off the top. Her breathing caught like fish on a hook.

"Oh, Gray."

There it was, the precious pendant. The construction of silver, elegantly laced on the perimeter in tedious and intricate patterns beyond her words descriptions. In the center lay the tanzanite, cut like an oval with dozens of faces. When she dragged it out ever so carefully, a thin and sparkling chain came flooding out.

Her eyes welled up and her lips curved into a full smile, "I can't believe this."

"You like it, I guess?"

"Oh, Goddess, yes. Put it on me," She sat up from the cushioning and let his warm fingers contrast against the cool night and metal to fix the beaut around her throat. They both stared at the results that hung from her neck.

"You're staying the night."

He pulled a leg around his waist and ran a hand over her smooth thigh, up to her back to squeeze and pull her flush against him. He could feel the heat of her, or maybe he was imagining it, and she could feel how anxious he was, how much he wanted her. They moaned together at the feeling and held each other tight, not wanting to let go even for a moment. And with passing minutes, forward actions and desires erupting, he'd never seen her this naked before. He'd seen parts of her naked and it was not like she wore _that_ many clothes to begin with, but still there was something awe-inspiring about it.

Their eyes locked.

He swore to the Goddess he'd never seen anything so beautiful.

Then he moved, rolled them so he could view her from above.

Her skin started to shine with a fine coat of sweat and she pressed her face against his as if trying to hide from the pleasure building inside her.

"Pants. Off. Now."

He thought about his father's warning suddenly.

"That's not such a-"

"Gray." She whimpered his name in a way he just couldn't ignore. Then she bit his earlobe and the next thing he knew, he was grabbing at his belt.

"I need to get a-"

"If you get up," She panted, "I'm going to strangle you."

Well, no arguing with that, he agreed, and kick off his pants.

It was, to put it lightly, a good night.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

* * *

With Fall coming to an end and the colder season approaching, Claire set off one morning for a head start on Winter. The field looked so completely bare it almost made her sad, yet she was unbelievably excited. Winter was her favorite time of year: snow, mining, mittens, and most importantly, no crops. Farming was her life, but a break was absolutely amazing, especially after the year she'd been through.

Gotz was out and waved to the farmer as she passed with an axe slouched on her shoulder.

"Out for some cuttin'?"

"Yeah, have any spots you're not using?"

He nodded towards the opening, right where the bridge from her farm ended, "There are logs over there I have yet to chop to size. You cut 'em and bring me some dinner, they're yours."

She gave a warm smile, "Deal."

Each of them went about their own business to chopping. It had been quite a few seasons since she'd chopped logs and stumps - since she first moved to Mineral Town - and the ware of the handle gave her splinters. Nonetheless, the cold air and rhythmic beatings against the hallow echos of the wood left her calm and focused.

A pile started to accumulate over the hours while her muscles loosened and her skin layered with sweat. By noon, a loud rumbling came from her stomach and she realized that, within her own zone, she'd lost track of time and the environment. Gotz had already moved on to up Mothers Hill. Yet, with the progress Claire was making, she continued to chop away and-

"Claire, dear, come over for lunch with us!"

Her eyes flew up, the axe flew down.

Missing. Significantly.

"Oh my Goddess! _Claire_!"

Manna was frozen in place as the farmer stood in complete shock, those navy eyes nearly bulging from their sockets. The axe was plunged deep into the front of her leg, the wound beginning to exhale crimson.

"_Claire_!" Manna ran for her and desperately looked around. "Where's Gotz?" Claire mumbled some husky, short phrases that Manna quickly put together as _Mothers Hill_. "O-Okay, Claire, stay here!"

In movies, people always blacked out from this sort of pain. Yet she was perfectly aware of her awake state. She panicked inside, frozen but silently screaming to move. Slowly and very cautiously, she glanced down and pulled the axe out with all of her shaky strength. There was blood. A lot of blood. She swore. Everything below her hip went numb and stung outrageously. The first thing she realized is that she hit the ground, outstretched, she assumed, and took shallow, hooked breaths to soothe the pain.

A low, manly voice asked her if she could feel anything.

"No."

"Lady, run ahead and make sure the doc is ready for us when we get there."

Heels ran off and a callused hand pushed away her wet bangs, "Gotz, I think... I got a cut."

"I think so, too, kid, hold on," He rushed off for a make-shift plank for her leg. The thick smell of iron clung inside of her nostrils and she had to use both hands to shut her face out from the world.

"This will suck," Gotz warned.

"What wi-"

Her voice was cut off with a shriek that molded into a yell of pain.

"That."

And they were off, her head bouncing to his run because his focus was all on the leg and keeping it best shape as possible. There was some shouting off in the distance, where Gotz only gruffed, "You've got a clan of questioners, kid."

The florescent light stung and Claire moaned, many clinks of metal and questions were being thrown everywhere and filled her ears stiff. Her back softened into a thin mattress and her leg suddenly screamed in pain.

"Oh, _damn_," The farmer moaned.

"Claire, can you feel that?"

"No shit," She barked back, probably to Trent.

"Goldie!" A familiar voice shouted in the back.

"Get him away from here, would you, Elli? We need to go into surgery, stat."

"Surgery?" Claire muttered.

A needle was shoved into her arm and everything from there grew very dull and fuzzy, and all too soon, black.

Manna was bawling her eyes out, watching the young blonde laying all too calm while the wound poured blood over. The curtains closed and a monitor was going at a steady beeping sound.

"What the _hell_ happened?"

She turned around to Gray, his face red and pressed with a furious expression.

"I-I accidentally, I-I didn't mean to!" Her sobs roared louder, Duke ran inside and headed straight for her. Rick barged in with Lillia and Popuri, Ann and Doug following a few minutes behind them.

"Sliced her leg right open," Gotz announced to the group, mainly to her boyfriend. "Was a pretty deep cut, vertical on her shin. Cut a few muscles and to the bone. It... will hurt in the morning."

Gray bubbled inside with hot oil, "And how the hell did she do that?"

Manna wept harder.

"Guessing the lady over here caught her off-guard."

"I-I di...didn't mean too!" The words were difficult to make out, pressed against Duke's chest and spiced with cries. Ann flinched at the sound while Doug walked over to his son.

"Did you see her?"

"Barely, damnit. The goddamn doctor just shut the fuc-"

"Language!"

"My girlfriend just sliced her _leg open_!"

Elli rushed out of the curtains with bloody clothes and the UMA hat on top. He raced over, snatched it from the counter and took in the scent before fitting it back on. It had been weeks, maybe even seasons, since he was last able to wear this thing. The smell of her shampoo and farm soothed his mind at first, but the apprentice quickly shook it off: Claire was in surgery with a busted open leg.

Not soothing at all.

Ann cooked and brought over dinner while the afternoon shifted to evening. Gotz left back to his post, Rick was dragged away by Popuri and his mother, while Sasha and Anna's family gathered around. Mary brought a few farming books she thought her friend might enjoy.

When Doctor Trent slowly exited the curtains, he observed the packed waiting room. The smell of pasta and meatloaf stuck in the air where many ate, even the two children, May and Stu. Gray was the only one standing and now directly aimed at him.

"Goddess, finally!"

Trent ignored him and approached the large group, "She's fine."

A universal sigh of relief cascaded among them.

"For now. The wound is clean and all stitched up. Her leg will have to wear a cast and brace for the next season, but beyond that, she's perfectly healthy. There shouldn't be any infections or long term damage."

"Is she awake?" Manna asked.

"No, it'll be a few hours before the anesthesia wears out of her system."

Doug stood and continued a private conversation with Trent while some of the guests had to trickle away for the night, but asked to have an update on her condition as soon as possible. Duke encouraged his wife that a good nights rest would do them well, but she refused to leave the hospital. Elli showed them a guest room, where Duke flooded her in compliments and apologized for the long day.

Ann approached her brother, "Hey."

No answer.

"She's okay, ya know."

"Yeah, I heard, Ann."

"You staying here all night?"

"Yeah."

"Well," She scratched her braid. "Goodnight then, bro."

"Bye."

His father soon finished with the doctor and patted Gray's shoulder, "We need to have a talk." And they both slowly made a walk to the couch where Doug took a long look at his son's face. "Claire's going to need some intensive care for the next season. She won't be able to do some of the basics, let alone walk for a long while. We decided, seeing how you already spend more time at her house than at ours, that it'd be best if you moved in."

He raised a cautious eyebrow. At any moment, Gray was waiting for him to saying he was joking.

"Seriously?"

"Yes, Gray, _seriously_. If you're planning on having a future with her and being her husband, you're going to need some practice at-"

"No, no. That's not what I meant. It's just that... you're really letting us? Just like that?"

Doug frowned, "Her leg is sliced open."

"Right."

"And I am putting my trust in you. To be responsible and_ safe_."

Gray nodded and his father left with a long goodnight, telling him that by the time Claire was ready to go home, his stuff would be ready and in the house. Once Trent went to his closed, private quarters, he and Elli were the only one's left awake and in the main area, the young nurse grew a soft smile, "You can go see her. I won't tell."

"Really?"

She nodded and walked him to the curtains, letting the cloth flood back behind once he was in. The sight of the woman he loved in a hospital bed with cords stuck in her arms and a large leg brace made his rough skin crawl. Her own skin was gradually regaining color and warmth. Gray stood for a long time, just examining her fragile state. It didn't suite Claire to look so weak and silent. He sat down and took her smooth hand into both of his. The monitor cradled him into a rather artificial calm feeling. The beginning of the day was just a complete blur by now, all that he could recall was the housewife sobbing and Gotz jogging with a limp and scarlet soaked Claire. A memory he continued to try and push away in the trash.

The hours throbbed against his heavy eyelids.

Nails dug into his hand and instantly Gray came back to reality for his lover. A small slit of blue showed where she barely laid with squinting eyes.

"Are you awake?"

There was a struggle for trying to find her tongue, and Claire settled with mouthing, "No."

He leaned to kiss her check, "Are you in pain?"

Those small shoulders gave a weak bob.

"You've had me dead on my feet, woman."

Her chest boldly increased, decreased, increased, decreased and filled again before words came out, "I'm sorry... you had _such_... a hard day, ass... hat," Her eyes moved to his head. "Give me... that back..."

"No."

"Gray," Her small voice whined. "Please."

Claire, using manners? Gray sighed and placed the cap on her bedside, "You're lucky that I've got a soft spot for you."

A minute rolled by as Gray soothed her hand with his palm, carefully watching her face. It slowly contorted as her limbs and veins rushed with more blood and feelings were coming back. Tears welled in her eyes and slowly leaked out the edges, "It hurts."

The rest of the week was split for Gray between needing to work, eat, and visit his girlfriend. Most times she was knocked out with the excessive amount of drugs in her bloodstream. The day before Winter would officially begin, it started snowing and the entire town prepared for the weather change. Trent declared that it was time she left and head home before the weather caused them any problems, but to immediately bring her back if any complications occurred.

Claire didn't mind the decision of Gray moving in, and was actually quite partial for the movement. He would have to clean, take care of the animals and do all of her daily chores. With Manna promising to bring meals and the girls over every night, she assumed life would actually take a turn for the lazy-better.

After getting home and filling her with some dinner, he led her to the bathroom and went to start up the fireplace. Thankfully, before the injury, she'd chopped enough to keep them steady for about two weeks if the weather was kind. Porter joined Gray beside the fire while he took off the thick work suit and changed it with comfortable home clothes.

"It's been a long day, buddy."

The dog didn't answer.

"Better go check on the master, eh?"

The mutt curled into sleep and watched the door of the restroom shut. The farmer looked totally flustered while the water in the tub remained still and steaming around her.

"I can't even wear my overalls anymore," She cried out, attention turning from the water to him. "My life _sucks_."

"I'm sorry to hear about that, Goldie."

"Did you check on the chicken and Brown?"

"Rick did," He slid a stool behind her and massaged her shoulders. Instantly her body loosened and leaned into his firm touch. "Everything's taken care of for the day."

"It feels good to be home."

He smiled, "It does."

His fingers pressed against the perfect place and she let out a tiny moan, "Good Goddess, I knew you were good for something."

"I can be good for other things, too."

"You know, I'd blush if I were still an innocent woman," Her neck arched back and a slow moan bellowed out. "Right there."

His thumbs swirled and kneaded in the area, "You never _were_ innocent."

"Hmph," Claire raised her arms from the steaming water and pulled his face down. "You never were nice."

"You never were funny."

"You were never asked," She grinned and they kissed, her face upside down.

Sleep didn't come easy for Claire that night. The home was cozy with warmth from the fireplace and Gray's heavy breathing. He has an arm around her waist that made things wonderful. But the pain in her leg intensified every minute. Trent only suggested three pills a day for the pain because they were so heavy-duty, and she'd already had four. She tried focusing on different things: the house, decorations, Porter, Gray, the fire.

The fire in her own leg burned hotter, though. Never one to admit her suffering, the farmer clutched her surroundings for hours.

The blankets curled around her body as she stiffly crawled forward to lay on Gray's toned, bare stomach. The clock across the room clicked with every second and she focused on the steady pace and dreaming. Her breathing turned uneven.

"Are you okay?" His sleepy, husky voice whispered.

There was a damp section on his flesh where her head lay.

"Come here, Goldie," In a swift motion, he pulled and tucked her beneath his chin. The tears continued on him and the sniffling became more prominent. It took an hour of coos, hair strokes and reassurance for her to drift into sleep. Mornings turned out to be the roughest patch in the day for both of them. He had to wake up earlier and get all of his personal things done before helping Claire get up, shower, take medication and forcing her to promise she'd stay inside. He lace them with a few threats that he'd be watching her like a hawk. The medication was usually well beyond worn off by dawn, too, which usually made her shut down to scary silence or become the polar opposite and rage with emotions.

He thought they'd be more physical while rooming.

He was way off on that mark.

There was the emotional rollercoaster always on high speed with Claire, and she only wanted to talk or be in complete silence. The drugs made her consistently drowsy, and without them, she would be in too much pain to even think about being intimate.

Until his birthday.

The farmer rolled over when the sun hit her eyes and she glanced at the calendar. It had been an entire week since she'd left the house. Through the windows she could see the snow fall and her inner child screamed for some fun. Gray was still sleeping, despite their usual wake up at dawn. The clock read nine and Claire suddenly realized something.

She wasn't in pain for once.

The blankets were all scattered around her, as usual, and she gazed upon his form. He slept on his stomach in just boxers and every muscle in his back was chiseled to perfection. Slowly, her small fingers traced between the contours until his limbs all stretched out and his face turned to peek at her.

"Morning."

"Happy birthday."

A grunt and some mumbling left him that she assumed was a "thank you."

"I haven't left the house in a week-"

"Means I'm doing my job right."

"-so I don't have a birthday gift. But we could always..." She lowered her lips to his shoulder-blade, whispering seductively. "Spend the day... together."

Gray moaned as her kisses dragged across his entire back. He turned over and she did the same to his chest.

"Goldie..."

"Hmm?" Her hot breath steamed on him.

"I don't think we can do that."

The kisses on his skin intensified, "Why?"

"Oh, I don't know. Your leg is busted open and covered in a giant cast."

"I fail to see your argument."

Their eyes met, "You can't even wake up without being in p-"

"I'm not in pain right now, though."

"And who's to say you won't be when we're... _together_?"

"Dunno," A smile crawled upon her lips. "Worth a shot if you ask me. Unless, of course, you don't _want_ to."

He moaned as her warm hands traveled, "You really kill me sometimes, you know that?"

And Claire went in for the kill, grabbing his hands to press them on her body while she occupied his mouth with her own. Lust brewed hot between their flesh and Gray couldn't help but let his instincts take over and caress her in all the right places. It wasn't until their movements winded them into a familiar position and she whimpered - Gray being unsure from the pleasure or pain - that he takes a moment to desensitize.

"You sure?" His voice was pained, and he swallowed as well, tightening his hold around her, seeking support for his spinning head.

She nodded. "You won't hurt me." And there was so much assurance, so much blind trust in her voice that he felt as though his heart may have exploded with the exquisite homecoming of it all.

They lay tangled in each other afterwards, breathing heavily and taking in the mood. Porter scratched at the door and Gray got up before his girlfriend could even think about walking up to do it. The outside had a sharp contrast as the cold air blew in instantly and snow flakes come in. From the bed, Claire moaned.

"Let's go outside and play."

He turned back and cherished the warmth of their bedsheets, "No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes.

"No, Goldie."

"Yes, Gray."

He frowned and cupped her lower back, "No, you can't. We've already pushed beyond the limits for a day. For a week."

"Says who?"

"The doctor. You're supposed to be on bed arrest for at least ten days."

A mischievous smile perks on her peach lips, "And all we did use was the bed."

"Yes, but," Gray pushed back her traveling hand headed south of his chest. "I'm pretty sure that's not what he meant."

"You're very sour for a man who was just laid."

Gray sighed, "I'm just worried. I'm supposed to be taking _care_ of you, not taking _advantage_ of you."

"You never have, so stop worrying, foolish ass," Her warm fingers played on his face, tracing the features.

He pulled her close and rolled a blanket over them. She was layered with soft pecks as his arms wrapped around her shoulders and upper back. His scent filled the confined space, a masculine tone of her farm, "I love you and I don't want things to go wrong during this next season. I just want to prove to my dad and grandpa that I can take care of you without them being shoved down my throat twenty-four seven."

"You're a big softy."

"Only for you, goldie."

"So let me go play outside."

"I don't think so."

"I think so."

"You need medication, and when you fall asleep, I'm headed to the inn for a few hours. Okay?" He got up and left for the bathroom. The next few minutes were occupied by moans and groans, complaints about how unfair life was. Nonetheless, pain was beginning to tickle her leg and she knew he was right. The nightstand had three cups already filled with her needed pills in the morning, two in each plastic container. They weren't an easy push down - the farmer always had the worst time swallowing pills. The lining of her stomach shivered with a hungry growl and Claire decided not to wait for Gray to get out of the shower.

The first few steps were difficult. The cast was heavy and bulky, not to mention there was absolutely no feeling bellow her hips in one leg. She dragged it across the wood flooring and was nearly knocked breathless by the time she reached the kitchen. Now to find a good and filling meal without effort. The fridge was running low and only had healthy things: fruits, veggies, leftovers.

"What does it take to find some junk food, for Goddess's sake," She complained to no one. Her search continued in the cupboards, which were extremely difficult to open, let alone go through. On the very top was shiny plastic bag loaded with unopened chips. The counter top was slick, probably not best to climb on with an unstable leg.

Might as well try.

Curving her good leg atop of the slick stone, she counted and took a few beep breaths before having the courage to pull the other one up in a jolt. It failed, miserably.

She feel back on the tile flooring with a huge thump to her skull.

Claire swore profusely and clutched her head tightly, trying to null out the pain as quick as possible.

"Goldie!" Gray slammed the bathroom door open and stomped towards her. She swore again. "What the _hell_ are you doing?"

"Dying. What does it look like, jerk?"

His face grew darker with anger, "That's not funny." He pulled her up by the arms and stood her before him. "Mind explaining to me what you're doing out of bed?"

"I'm starving, _mom_."

"You could have waited for me to get out of the shower!"

"Could have, but didn't."

His nostrils flared, "You've got to be the most damn persistent woman I've ever met."

"Chips, please."

With a smooth motion, Gray both got the bag and the woman and stalked across the room to throw them back on the bed, "Please, for the love of all that is holy, _stay in bed_."

He finished dressing into his casual jeans and sweater attire and grabbed his wallet, "I'm out to see the family. I'm begging you," He leaned over the bed and whispered in her ear. "Be safe."

Thousands of goosebumps raised on her skin and she flushed pink in the cheeks. She crunched on another chip,"Eh."

"Please? For me?"

"No."

"For the dog?"

"Yeah, okay."

"Good," A last kiss was planted on her smooth, heated cheek. "I'll be back by the evening. I love you."

During his walk through the snow, the blacksmith prayed to the Goddess that she'd just sleep and occupy herself without dying. Cliff and Doug were the first to greet him at the bar and wish a happy birthday. Ann brought out a cake and the family was eventually complete when Saibara arrived hours later. He went on about how Forget-Me-Not Valley was finally getting back on their feet after the storm in the summer and bringing him back business.

"The farmer there, Jill, still has tools for us to work on," Saibara told Gray. "It'll take you a day to come there and back."

"I can't do that."

"Don't _tell_ me you can't do that, boy. You will."

"I can't," Gray took a bite of cake. "Claire would probably kill herself in that cast trying to run into mischief if I were gone."

"I'll look after her!" Ann cheered. Gray's face grew pale.

"No, you won't. You'll make it worse."

"She could come over here for a day, we could have another sleepover!"

Doug nodded, "That seems like a good idea."

Gray sighed.

Ann grinned, "D'aww, is the wittle Gway all saddy-waddy that he has to weave his Cwairey-Wairey?"

"Was that even English?"

"Obviously, idiot."

"I'm not the one speaking like a toddler."

"I'm not the one who looks like a-"

"Stop!" Doug frowned at the both of them.

The bell chimed at the door and in came Manna, Anna and Sasha, giggling at some gossip. They joined the table with Basil and Jeff before Manna noticed them and ran over, heels clicking on the hardwood.

"Happy Birthday, dear Gray!"

"Thanks."

Manna clapped, very cheery, "I just stopped by Clai- I mean, your place," The tiny housewife snickered at the correction. "And left her some soup on the counter. She was asleep, so I didn't want to wake the dear angel."

It felt like a large burden had been lifted from his broad shoulders. Claire was actually doing something he asked for once and not being stubborn, "Thanks, Manna. That means a lot."

"Goodness gracious, it's no problem. And I left your gift with the dinner, too!" She ran back to her table, where Ann followed to take their orders. Doug took a sip from his booze and cleaned off his mustache.

"How's she holding up?" Cliff asked.

"Depends on that day."

"Today?"

Gray tried to hide his blush by coughing and avoiding eye contact, "Energetic."

"Good," Saibara coughed and gulped his yellow alcohol. "Barley wants her to get some livestock soon."

The younger of the men frowned, "How soon?"

"This week, I believe."

"No."

"Don't sass me, this isn't your decision."

Doug sighed, "Saib, if he says no, it's best. We have to respect his decisions for her."

"She's not a child, she didn't lose her brain! I wouldn't trust this boy to pick out my clothes in the morning!"

The other two sighed and ignored his continuous rant. It went from his working skills to his haircut, from the way he walked to the weather.

"You've upset my bones, boy."

"Glad to be of service," Gray muttered.

His father gathered their empty plates and headed into the back. It wasn't long before Gray and Cliff got into a conversation and Doug came back out join them. It was happy, and more guests entered the inn as dinner time approached. Ann worked at her best pace while Cliff decided to help out and wash dishes in the back. The elder coughed a good few minutes before announcing he needed to sleep and wished his grandson a final happy birthday before leaving. Doug sat with his son and happily praised him for the amount of responsibilities he was handling with well lately. But when the sun was tucked away beneath the horizon and the stars were starting to come out, Gray bid his family a final farewell before slowly walking back home.

Home.

That still have him the shivers from the awesome of being able to say that.

Those shivers stopped immediately when he neared the home and heard a loud moan from the walls. His instincts took over, mixing with fear, realizing Claire must be in pain or in trouble. He ran for the door and desperately shoved the key in the lock and barged in.

Rick was there. In their home.

In their bed.

Over Claire.

A shirtless Claire.


	12. Chapter 12

**Le short chapter. But next chapter... OH MAN. JUST YOU GUYS WAIT.  
**

**Chapter 12**

* * *

Rick was running through his tenth daily check up on the chickens while Popuri followed him, complaining about something while filling up the feeders.

"I just don't understand why."

Rick made a noise of question.

"Because, like, if the cake was already there, the pink frosting should have been, too."

He nodded.

"And if the frosting wasn't there, I think mom would have warned me."

"Of course."

"So the pink frosting, I think, is a lie. Or maybe the cake is a lie."

There was a faint noise of glass breaking and a clutter of things falling afterwards. Curious, Rick left the coop to check it out. He assumed the crashing came from Sundrenched farm, "Hey, Pop, I'll be back later."

"Fine. I'll go ask mom now about the cake."

The frost and soft snow crunched under his feet and he knocked on the door, "Are you okay in there?"

"Rick?" A shout came from the home.

"Yeah?"

"Help me."

He came in and looked around. The farmer, ridden with sleep yet still charming, looked relieved to see a human face. The dog barked viciously at him until Claire shouted for him to back off.

"Did that noise come from here?" He asked.

"Depends if you're talking about the big fall down of stuff. Then yes, it was," She pointed across the home where shelves were slanted and things lay broken on the floor. "Porter was roughhousing too much again."

"Well," He chuckled. "He's a beast."

"I know, he's twice the size of his mother!" She smiled. "Do me a favor and sweep up the broken glass before I slice my feet open too?"

The blond man nodded and searched for a house broom. It was slanted in the closet and he carefully began sweeping the remains of broken trinkets.

"How has life been?"

He grinned, "Better."

"Yeah? How so?"

He let the glass pour and clink in the trashcan, "Karen hasn't been drinking as much."

"That's improvement."

Rick joined Claire and sat on the edge of the large bed, "Yeah, she's a lot happier, too. We are thinking about taking a vacation together during the holidays."

Claire smiled, "Awesome."

Rick blushed, "Thanks. How's your life, aside from the leg thing?"

"Lazy and unproductive."

"Sounds good."

"Eh," Her hands gathered her handfuls of hair and lazily began braiding through it. "It gets boring really quick."

They continued with a long conversation and shared laughs and smiles. Rick was a good friend, despite popular belief. The man was caring and funny, yet protective and pestering. Like Gray, in some perspectives - very, very narrow perspectives.

"Manna left me some dinner. Could you warm that up for us?"

Rick swallowed in surprise, "Dinner? Together?"

"I'm sorry. I assumed you ate food. Would you prefer some of my chicken feed?"

The male farmer got up, made sure not to bump into Porter, and looked inside the pot, where some type of soup laid. It smelled wonderful and he let it heat on the burners.

"Does Gray really live with you now?"

"Yes."

He awkwardly bit his lip. He still had that small thing of infatuation with the attractive farmer, even though his relationship with Karen was finally blossoming. It was hard not to, in his defense. There was her bright smile, sharp tongue, modest attitude, and more importantly, lovely physical features.

"Does he take good care of you?"

"Better care than I deserve by the way I treat him," She snorted. "But, yes, he takes wonderful care of me."

"Good," He internally sighed with relief. The soup began to steam and bubble. Rick ladled into the two bowls and cautiously grabbed hot pad gloves and walked over. The mutt heard footsteps long before the pair, suddenly perking up and barking, running from Claire's bed and to the door. Rick tripped over the racing animal and the dinner went flying all over.

The boiling hot soup spilled all over her torso and she screamed, quickly sitting up and peeling away the drenched garment to stop the burning.

"Oh, Goddess," She moaned. Porter continued to bark and scratch at the door. "Rick!"

"I-I didn't mean to!"

"Get a cold washcloth!"

He raced into the kitchen, panicking, and flooded icy water through a cloth. He grabbed a roll of paper towel and raced back to the bed. The farmer moaned loud at the contrasting temperature, and Rick huddled over to soak up the mess, apologizing profusely.

Keys jingled quickly before Gray shoved the oak door open. Everything grew very silent. Porter ran into the man and greeted him home with an obnoxious amount of happiness.

The apprentice slammed the door shut.

Steam practically blew from each nostril as he marched at Rick.

In a brute moment, he grabbed the other man by the collar and pinned - shoved - him into the wall.

"You have ten seconds to recite your will to me, Chicken Nugget."

Rick gulped, struck speechless by Gray's face and the pressure in each of the balled fists latched on his shirt collar.

"Gray!" The blonde shouted from the bed. "Let him down!"

Instead, he shoved into the wall again, harder.

"Gray, I swear, if you don't put him down-"

He turned to look at his girlfriend. There was a cold towel over a large irritated spot on her bare stomach, "Then explain right now before I kill him."

She lifted the cold cloth and pointed to the flipped bowls, "Porter tripped him running to bark at you and the soup spilled on me!"

His icy blue eyes penetrated like daggers into her.

"_Boiling_ soup!"

He turned to glare at the scared chicken chaser, "I should kick your ass so bad-"

"But you _won't_, now let him down."

The couple glared. Rick gasped for air awkwardly until Gray threw him aside. The wood echoed with his fall and he took a few calming breaths to try and relax his off-the-chart heartbeat.

"I am so sorry, Rick," Claire frowned. He quickly nodded and ran out.

Gray picked up the utensils and silently stalked to clean everything up. He gathered up the farmer and transferred her to the bath, made sure she was in without a word, and rushed until she was finished. Once she was dried and in pajamas, he carried her to the couch while he changed the soup-soaked sheets, then handing her a fresh bowl of the dinner. But Claire no longer had an appetite and watched her lover go between the things that 'needed' to get done. A pinch of guilt tugged at her insides and a cold blanket sheeted in her core. Ultimately, Claire knew she'd been acting immature as of late, but it wasn't all intentional. Especially tonight. Gray wasn't meant to be livid to the bone while doing random chores to keep from exploding.

After taking out the trash, the apprentice stood in the kitchen. There was a window above the sink, facing a forest of back-trees, that he occupied himself with staring out of. There were a landfill of emotions that gathered inside. The first was just pure rage, then regret that Rick was still walking around in one piece. There was a puny amount of relief, knowing that he got there before anything could have remotely progressed in the chicken chaser's mind. It still bothered him - another man in his home, his bed, with his girlfriend. Of course Gray was the jealous type, but this wasn't jealousy. It was an opposition to protect his territory. Just like the snow draping itself on the trees, he wanted to be the only one draped with Claire's love, her mind, her everything. Simply the thought of what Rick saw, could have thought, could have done. Claire wasn't her typical strong now, she was nibble with medication and sleep. If he would have laid a single hand on her-

"Gray," The petite woman squeaked from the corner.

He immediately twisted his stare at her.

"I think you're going to break the counter," She nodded where he stood. His hands were gripping the edge of the stone top so hard, each knuckle looked like it was ready to rip through skin. He took a deep breath, the air smelling like soup and pine. There were silent minutes to follow and Gray rubbed down his face before joining Claire across the room and on the sofa. Her usually stone-like, dark hues were practically liquid, ready to seep through the seams of their irises with intense blue lava.

"I'm sorry for how I've been acting lately and about tonight... I don't want you to be unhappy on your birthday. Or... anytime, really..."

With each warm hand, Gray cupped her face and drew them together until each of their forehead's touched, "Everything is fine."

"No, it's not. You're really upset."

"I'm fine."

"Gray, you lie so bad it's painful for others."

"Claire, I..." He pulled back to look at her entire face, to analyze every beautifully defined feature. "I don't mind the things you do. You act up and do stupid things, but that's who you are-"

"Shut up."

He smiled, "But we're too close for me to walk in on that and not want to beat him to a pulp. It makes me sick that he just got to... to walk out! He-"

"He didn't intend for that to happen."

"It did happen, though. It did."

She frowned and stared down at her fingernails before unwrapping the wool blanket on her and curling it around them both. He pulled her on him while laying down so they both lay flat, facing each other.

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay. I'm not mad at you, Goldie."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"You're a good boyfriend."

"Thanks," He tucked a few locks of hair behind her ear. The woman slowly sank kisses onto his heated skin before drifting into sleep after an hour of muttering apologies, promises, compliments and more apologies. In truth, there was nothing for Claire to be so hell-bent over. Gray himself knew all too well that he was overly guarded of everything: ores, tools, family, friends. It came naturally to him for years now to protect things with his utmost ability - ever since his mother and grandmother passed on.

Thinking about the car accident made his stomach itch, right where the scar lay. Claire was asleep on top of it and it made him think of how many times she'd stroked the long patch of flesh and admitted that she already knew the story behind it. When her soft, tiny fingers would soothe at the scar, it was always strange. Not fear or discomfort. There was only a defensive quality at the touch, like the way he touched her. It made him happy to know she was feeling the same way, even if she would always be too stubborn to say it out loud.

On the day Gray had to travel to Forget-Me-Not Valley, he had to wake up closer to four for preparation. A personal lunch, warm boots and bags were prepared all before he got Claire up and did her now new daily routine, all with the aid of him. By six, he carried Claire to the inn and pestered her forever until she swore beyond doubt that she wouldn't be reckless.

Reckless.

Reading, Claire assumed, would not be reckless. The farming books Mary brought her during the hospitalized days were her first choice, but they didn't reveal much new. Next was lunch, then talking with Doug, then dinner, then helping out with dishes, then breathing. Then more breathing. Rick popped in to sell Doug some eggs, but when he saw Claire smile, he dashed out in a second.

Yeah, reckless.

Mary and Elli joined Claire and Ann at the inn after nightfall, where the nurse proudly announced her engagement to Trent.

"The wedding is on the twentieth and I'd love for all of you to be my bridesmaids!"

"Yes!" Ann shouted, shoving a pillow in her face in excitement.

"We can go dress shopping in the city, too," She giggled and looked over to Claire. "We'll have to ask Trent if you can go, I think."

The farmer shrugged, "I have an appointment tomorrow. We can check then."

"Probably won't be able to go with Gray on her back every second," Ann retorted.

Mary smiled, "He _is_ very safeguard over you."

"Because he knows he'll never get another girlfriend," The ginger laughed, the others joining.

"He doesn't own me."

"No, you're right," Mary adjusted her glasses. "A woman should always be independent."

Ann snorted, "You read too many romance book-things."

"Book-things...?"

"Ready-meatys."

The librarian blushed, "Right."

The women went back to Elli's wedding, planning out everything from the dress, church decorations, flowers and guests. Somehow they'd drifted to the topic of Won with Mary, then winning the lottery, reality television, cats, and a very animated stance from Ann about the zombie apocalypse.

"Zombies," She whipped the blanket threw the air and turned it into a cape. "Are nothing to joke about."

"Oh?" Mary giggled.

"_Oh_, seriously," Ann ran over to her drawers and the group was hit with dozens of guides and comics on the undead. "Zombies are very-"

"Wait, wait, wait," Claire raised a brow, searching through the many pieces: _He's Just Not That Into Your Brain_, _Fifty_ _Shades of Blood_, _The Price of Dawn, Zombies: They Mean Business_. "_Why_ do you have all of this..."

"Ready-meaty," Mary laughed.

"Yes, all of this _ready-meaty_?"

"Because," Ann grabbed the chips and surprised them all by jumping in the middle of their circle. "Zombies are awesome!"

She went on to imitate a zombie and drool on Claire's head.

"Right," The blonde sighed. "I'm going to sleep with Ann-crust in my hair. Lovely."

"Ann-crust in the best kind of crust."

Elli raised her delicate eyebrows, "Maybe she shouldn't have had all those energy drinks..."

"You're absolutely, positively correct, Elli!" She pounced around and moved her desk drawer open. "We are full-grown, female adults. Energy drinks are for the, shall I say, baby-sissy babies."

"Eloquently stated, Ann."

"Thank you, Miss Mature," With both pale hands, the waitress pulled out two full, aged bottles of brandy. "Now let's have some real fun."

* * *

**It has been brought to my attention that I should be changing to rating on this story to M. Though I have read the rating guidelines and I think this still qualifies as a T story, I will definitely take that into consideration. For now, it will stay T, and when I have finished this story, I will go back, re-look at what I've done and change the rating from there. I just don't want to make any rash decisions right now before anything's done. **

**I have also been getting PMs asking about the length/genre of this fic. Length? Uh. Get back to me when I get a clue. **

**Genres of the romance/tragedy? Sorry. No spoilers.  
**

******But thank you, reviewers! You're always appreciated.**


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

* * *

"If there's one thing in this world I've ever known for sure, it's that this girl is gonna crush me like a small bug," Gray sighed, hauling the small farmer in his arms.

Doug laughed and slipped a wool blanket over her still mostly-sleeping form, "Trip went well?"

"Yeah, the town looks rough, though. The farmer was nice enough to not complain and let me out without an explanation of stuff."

His father nodded and patted Claire on the back, "Good. Goodbye, Claire, dear."

She responded with a long groan. Gray smiled at his father and left the inn. Snow gently fell and stuck lightly on them.

"Graaaay," She moaned, a snowflake touching her nose, and turning into his chest completely.

"We're off to the doctors, Sleeping Beauty. You're already late for your check-up."

"Late?"

"It's nearly noon."

Another long whimper came from her.

"I got back an hour ago and smelled the whiskey," He chuckled. "Ann is going to get it."

"Stop shouting."

"Alright," He whispered. "If you stop being reckless for once. I don't think Trent'll appreciate the alcohol in you."

Rick was sitting on the bench in front of the supermarket and smiled, "Hey, Claire!"

Karen scowled and hissed for him to pay attention to her, and Gray copied her scowl and continued for the clinic. The farmer was mumbling something barely English about a wedding and wanting to go to the city. He nodded and made his way to Trent, "Sorry she's late."

He looked up and nodded, "It's fine. Set her on the bed, please."

Gray complied and patted the cap back to her head, "I've gotta go back to my gramps for a few hours. I just came back and headed to get her," The blacksmith lowered to her ear. "I'll see you later, Goldie."

Claire nodded and the two men exchanged their goodbyes. The air smelled like bleach and iron and Claire's headache pounded harder. Never again, she thought, would she drink with Ann. After only five shots, Claire already felt it's bitter, acidic power kicking her hard and dropped out of the competition. The ginger obviously won, a total of seventeen shots.

"How are you this morning, Claire?"

"I'll be honest," She eyed him, trying to adjust to the bright lights. "I've got a hangover."

"Ah," He nodded. "Should I expect Elli to be the same?"

"Worse."

"Lovely. Ah, here they are-"

"Congratulations, by the way, for the engagement."

He blushed and smiled wryly, "Thank you. As I was saying, these last reports are two weeks old, from Fall twenty-fifth. We'll remove the cast first and take blood tests later when the alcohol has cleaned from your system."

"Sounds good, doc."

She'd never had a cast before, let alone had one removed. There was some clinking and rummaging until Trent made his way over with a large looking saw, "Alrighty, let's get started."

"You could kill me with that."

He rolled his dark eyes and began cutting. The sawing was even worse on her headache and lasted nearly half an hour, followed by an ungodly noise of the fabric tearing with scissors and a bad smell omitting from the freshly cracked mold. It was extremely strange to have freedom back in the limb. Air was tickling her skin while she wiggled her toes back and forth. The cut was looking a lot better and didn't compare to the monstrous gash it once was.

"Now to remove the stitches."

When Trent went for the smaller scissors and carefully went in, she shrieked, "Aren't you going to put some fancy drugs in me so I don't feel it?"

"No, now hold still. It will only hurt if you don't hold still."

Claire held as still as possible and lost all of her breath once he began, "You are such a liar."

"I know, but it will hurt worse if you interrupt me and make the process longer."

The black fibers felt like mini snakes crawling from her being and biting viciously as they escaped. Once her head started to spin and the room was blurry, she focused on biting the skin on her arm and counting back from seven-thousand. Hospitals didn't make Claire uncomfortable or sad, contrary to most people. It was a building like any other that had its ups and downs. But the smell. Hospitals had to worst smell. Old people, Doritos and syringes.

"Let's get everything cleaned up, shall we," He thought aloud, reaching under his stool and getting the cotton swabs. Instantly the burning came. She swore and told Trent how he was a master at torture.

"It's rubbing alcohol. Surely you've felt it before?"

"Yeah, but I've never had a _cut_ like this before."

"I know," He traded for a new swab. "Your medical history is pretty good, despite your career. And your parents and grandparents all have had wonderful health, so that's lucky for you."

"Lucky," She snorted. The alcohol burned hotter and it numbed the entire shin. "Elli wanted to know if I could go to the city with the girls tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" Trent hummed and thought over the situation. "Well, it's a big step to take - quite literally. You have three more weeks in casts, but each one will be smaller. Your bone is still broken."

"But...?"

He sighed, "I don't think there is a _but_ to this. Your bone isn't healed properly enough to be walking that far of distances, Claire."

"My life sucks!"

"I'm happy for you. Now," Trent walked to his supply desk and came back with a syringe in hand. "Arm, please."

"My life sucks."

Her stuck the most obvious and reachable vein in her arm and drew the blood slowly. It ended up in a small jar at the end until it was filled. There wasn't much, but her stomach still weakened and head spun.

"It'll take a few days for the machine to get us results. I don't think there's an infection, but better safe than sorry. Next, you need to go get this urine test done."

The preceding hours were filled with Trent mending a new, much smaller cast while juggling between the other patients. Jeff was there, Sasha's husband, who made small talk with her from the other side of the room. Ellen later came in, Elli rolling her along in the wheelchair. The couple exchanged a quick kiss before Elli made her way over to the farmer.

"I can't believe I drank so much!"

"Congratulations to the world of _Ann Parties_."

The nurse was flushed all over, "I still have a massive headache. How's your hangover?"

"It would be better if these lights weren't brighter than heaven and that obnoxious beeping would stop."

"These lights are so Goddess awful. I have always hated them. But here, are you hungry?"

She hadn't realized how starved she was until Elli said something, "Yes."

"My grandma gave me some pasta and these," Her old fingers held up a small Ziploc bag of pills. "Pills to stop the headaches. They're simple Advil, we have them here. I wish I could give you some, but you're probably all drugged up right now."

"Sorta," The blonde tried sitting up but was feeling too weak. "That IV has something else besides water in it."

The brunette grabbed the patient's clipboard and read over everything, "He's got you on Vicodin and Bayer. Not a good mix with Advil. He'd kill me if I did that. But Vicodin is way stronger and helps a lot more. How long ago did he put that?"

"Ten minutes ago, or something."

"Or something. Okay. Well, here. Let's eat."

The pasta was lovely: soft and firm. It was an easy food to get down when the farmer could barely place together what two and two would add up to. Elli had to run off and help with Jeff and Ellen after a while, and a certain loneliness haunted Claire. Whatever Vicodin did to her system, it didn't make her feel any better. Everything was numb and her brain was telling itself to sleep while running through an immense amount of topics. Television she watched growing up, the smell of pineapples, what cows sounded like on mountains. Her parents lingered and were associated with each of the things until she realized how badly she missed them. Life had changed so much from last year this time when she admitted she was moving out. They hadn't kept contact once.

"Claire?"

"Mom?"

"No," The person laughed. "Ann, you dipshit."

"I wanted my mom, though."

"Uh," Ann shifted awkwardly. "You did not come out of my woohoo, sorry. I came because my dad wanted to know if you were feeling any better."

Claire sniffled, "Your dad?"

"Yeah. Guy with the mustache and face. He's over at the lobby checking in but wanted me to come over and see if you were awake first. You look kind of super dead."

She closed her eyes again and couldn't control her emotions. There was something forcing her on the verge of cry just a few seconds ago and now the thought was as good as gone. The tears still fell in clumps. Footsteps exchanged and a large, warm hand cupped her forehead and then moved her hair away, "Claire, sweetie, it's Doug."

Her throat felt like it was clogged with wool and she decided to answer with a nod.

"Are you okay? You're burning up, dear. Are you sick?"

The questions lingered in her mind. She started to sob harder and reached for the man, who welcomed her with a caring embrace, "Hey, hey, kiddo. Easy now." Doug sat on the edge and cooed at his new-felt daughter. "It'll be okay."

"My dog pro-pr-probably peed in... the h-house."

"Gray is at your home. It's okay."

Gray. The name suddenly conjured up a whole new batch of tears, "I-I-I... miss G-Gray."

"He came earlier, honey. You were asleep."

"I was... asleep?"

He nodded and patted her back gently, "Yes. Now, why are you crying?"

"I don't k-know."

He soothed her until the cries formulated into thick sniffles and hiccups. Ann eventually walked over and set something Claire couldn't see past the everlasting hug on the bedside table.

"I brought you some coloring books and my favorite crayons."

"T-Thanks."

"No problem-o, familia."

Doug held her back and looked into each sparkling blue eyes that still sheeted with water, "Do you need food?"

She shook her head in rejection.

He grinned, "We'll bring you some anyway at home. Gray is probably making you something, too."

"Not anymore," Ann interrupted. "I called him when she got up. He's supposed to be coming over."

"See, darling? Gray'll be here."

Claire nodded and the innkeeper's family all had small talk while trying to cheer up their new almost-member. The blacksmith entered the clinic and let his chest exhale finally when seeing her awake. Doug nodded and got up so he could take his place. The cold of winter clung to the outer layer of his clothing and caused a wave of shivers through his lover.

"Hey, Goldie."

The tears started to well in her eyes and her voice came out a squeak, "Hi."

The familiar scent of home and smoke now comforted her, along with the accustomed arms and voice. Doug and Ann took seats at the opposite spectrum of the clinic to allow them some privacy and Gray pulled back to analyze her state.

"You look worse than when I dropped you off this morning."

She nodded and tried hiding the thick, wet tears that quietly fell. His warm fingers brushed them away.

"What's wrong? Are you in pain?"

She sighed, "No."

"Then what is it?"

Claire shook her head, "I don't know. I missed you."

He smiled at the humor. Not sure what the humor was, but it was there, "I missed you, too."

He rubbed the tears from her cheeks with a thumb, and she choked out a muffled little giggle. He wanted nothing more in the world but to kiss her, but her jagged breathing and the redness of her cheeks and eyes reminded him that there was still more problems that they had to face. He sighed with the knowledge that this one wouldn't be as easy, because he didn't know what the problem was. But the air was different, Claire was different. Something was simply off.

Elli jumped when Trent came running out of the back room and yelled for her assistance.

The doctor was at Claire's station in a second, fumbling with lightening speed on everything. Gray was flabbergasted and Doug ran over with Ann.

"Elli, get these IV's our of new _now_."

The nurse asked no questions and pushed Claire flat to work out the metal. Trent reviewed the clipboard and dropped it with a low hiss, moving to her other arm and counting her pulse. He swore after a minute and was doing some strange probing over the farmer: light in her eye, things in her ear, temperature checking.

"What's going on?" Claire demanded.

Trent jolted around and looked straight into her dark eyes, "I messed up."

Doug's nostrils flared, "_Messed up_?"

"I didn't even realize, I didn't even think to check. I cannot believe how completely _careless_ it was of me - Elli, IVs out?"

"Yes."

"And I should _not_ have used these drugs."

"Why?" Gray frantically watched the doctor work over the barely conscious woman.

Elli was reviewing the new clipboard and gasped.

"She's pregnant."

"Vicodin is extremely dangerous on a fetus, we need to drain it out of her system immediately."

"I was wondering why she wasn't reacting properly to it!" Elli joined Trent in their newest project.

Ann gasped, "Holy mother of the Goddess. You are _so_ dead, Gray."

Gray, though, had gone thoroughly numb. Those words. Claire. Pregnant. Claire was pregnant. Claire was suddenly in danger with the baby inside of her. His baby. Their baby. He and Claire exchanged a long stare, the world around rushing and rising with sound. He wasn't sure how to read her expression, and he wasn't sure if his was any better.

Doug transformed into a livid monster, frozen for only a minute at the news. There was absolutely no question as to who the father was. His son, his very own son, lied and made the biggest mistake of his life. And if Gray didn't think it was a mistake now, he was going to have no idea of the deep shit he was in once Doug had his word in. He reached for Ann's wrist and made her face him directly, "Don't you dare make a smart comment, missy. You sure as hell better expect a hefty investigation in your relationship from me once I'm done with them."

Ann gulped.

"And if I find anything out about that Cliff boy, he'll be Goddess damned and homeless, you hear me? Now get your grandfather to the inn _this instant_."

She rushed out without even another thought.

He looked at his son. His eyes were focused on Elli and Trent, who were now slowing down and thanking the Goddess they found out in time.

"When was the date of conception?" Doug demanded. Elli and Trent both looked up and reached for the clipboard. The innkeeper's face was beyond the point of murderous.

The doctor filed through a few pages, "Judging by the hormone count, near twenty days ago."

Twenty days ago.

Twenty days ago, Gray hadn't moved in with Claire.

He pulled Gray close by the collar, "Get to the inn and meet in the kitchen right now."

"No, I need to stay with her."

"Gray, just go," Claire finally spoke.

"If you don't go now, boy, I'll give the doctor a real reason to make you stay. Now _get_."

The apprentice was torn between the two, and Elli smiled awkwardly, "I'll wheel her over immediately when she's good. She's safe with us, I promise."

There was no comparison between Doug and Saibara once they reached the inn and to the back kitchen. If Doug's scolding was bad, Saibara could have made the Goddess cry.

"You lied to me."

"I'm sorry," Gray whispered.

"_Sorry_ isn't going to change anything. You think I can trust you now? Do you think I can look at your face right now without disappointment?" Saibara banged his fist on the table, "You have put our family to complete _shame_. Her father is a mayor - a man to respect with the fullest of honor. And you haven't even met him! You have shamed him, shamed her mother, shamed _me_! I am a dying man, Gray. I only have so much time before my bones break and I fall down. You are meant to take over my place as the head blacksmith in the land! Now what are you? You're going to be _nothing and ruin my name_."

"You have only just met her," Doug sneered. "You two aren't married - probably haven't even considered marriage. Do you think you can support her? Her child? _Your_ child, Gray? I cannot even express my disgust for how you've stolen her innocence and future!"

"You are _going_ to marry her!" Saibara coughed.

They continued for hours, screaming and shouting at their son, grandson. Doug wandered off to check on Ann and blow some steam off on that couple as well, threatening their romance to the fullest.

Claire was wheeled in late evening by an incredibly nervous Elli, who explained quickly that she was good and no more drugs were in her system. Gray hesitated if he would be allowed to go over and hold his lover. But once the nurse left, the berating started back up and heavier than before. They let it all unleash as the couple sat on opposite sides of the room and took the same words.

His head was filled with so much fog, Gray was no longer able to think. Too many scenarios, too many obligations, needs, wants, words, frustrations and emotions tangled together and refused to separate. And later into the night, the steam cooled. He lifted Claire from the wheelchair and left the inn without a single word. She refused to look at him, he couldn't keep his eyes off of her. Porter sensed their attitudes and only jumped a few times before going back to bed in the corner. They went through their nightly routine: a shower, pajamas and television. All in absolute stale, stiff air.

Hours beyond midnight was when Gray moved them to the bed and they laid in the absolute darkness. Each of them could hear the snow blowing outside and Porter snoring.

Claire looked into Gray's eyes.

"I'm sorry," She whispered, voice raw and scratched. A punch of guilt aimed right for his heart.

"Claire, no. Never apologize for this."

"But I am sorry."

"Please, don't. "

Claire sniffled and cuddled as close as possible into his chest.

"I love you," Gray whispered.

And she began crying.

* * *

**_Tiny Author Note_: Hi. _Stay _is a new M rated fic of Chelsea and Vaughn, but I'm also soon to start _Asking Too Much_, an Akari and Gill story. I will also be putting out a one shot of Ann and Jack, and very possibly a long fic about Jill and Skye. My hands are full.**

**BUT, not too full! I'll do recommendations of any other couples you guys wanna see.  
**

**Thanks for reading. I'll pump out another chapter soon enough.  
**


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

* * *

Claire woke up stiff and aching late in the morning with the sound of Porter barking at the door. It took a minute for her to realize that Gray was no where in the house to get the door. Without the huge cast, it was easier for her to shuffle out of the trap of bedsheets and waddle for the door.

Manna barged in, followed by Anna and Sasha, all sporting warm fur and wool garments. They were already deep in chitchat and the farmer felt like a train ran over her head.

"Claire, sweetie. You look horrible!"

"Well, she _is _pregnant."

"Sasha!" Anna scolded her.

The news was not even an entire day old and they knew. They somehow knew. Claire immediately knew she should not have been surprised, "No, it's fine."

"So it's true?" Manna whispered.

She took in a deep breath and slowly nodded, suddenly feeling very nauseous from the attention, "Have you guys seen Gray?"

Anna was already in the kitchen, boiling tea and warming food they brought over, "He's at the blacksmith, I suppose."

"He was at my shop earlier, buying a-"

Manna shushed the shopkeeper harshly and sat the farmer down, "You need to be treated like a princess today. How's your leg doing?"

It wasn't even a minute after heels clicking and drawers shuffling when the tiny woman came back and was brushing through the farmer's blonde locks. Sasha opened up her large purse and went to work on Claire's hands, the last woman still at work with a quick meal in the kitchen.

"How did Gray react?" Manna gently pried.

"Well," she took a deep breath. "I don't know. His dad and grandpa got to us quicker than we could talk about it."

"I heard," she snorted. "Quite literally. Duke almost ran over to see what was wrong."

"Are you keeping it?"

"Sasha!" The two shouted in unison.

Claire bit her lip and shut away the tears, focusing on the smell of pie and other sweets in the kitchen, "Of course I am."

"Is he happy?" The beaut cooed from the oven.

Her shrug was lazy, "We didn't talk."

"Not even this morning?"

"You guys woke me up. I didn't realize how late it was."

"Ah," Manna began doing some strange styling with her hair that made goosebumps rise on her flesh. "Are you happy?"

"I don't think I've cried so hard in my life."

The silence afterwards hurt just to sit in. It wasn't until Anna brought over the food and the forks clinked on plates that Sasha had the nerve to lighten the mood, "Do you want a boy or girl?"

"I haven't thought about it, to be honest. I mean, I guess I'd want a boy like Gray."

All three gave a unified 'aw' and began thinking of names. The only thing Claire focused on after a while was the food and replaying yesterday in her head very thoroughly. Checking out the wound turned out to be the day she became a mom-to-be. _A mom_. The thought made her nauseous all over again. And knowing how her parents - people who hadn't even met Gray - would take the news, made every muscle tighten with worry.

The dog came up and she fed him tiny bits off of her plate.

"Hey, Manna?"

She disconnected from the conversation and smiled warmly, "Yes, dear?"

"Could you help me walk to the coop and stable?"

"Sure, of course," sullenness and guilt soaked her features, looking down at the injured leg.

They gathered warm gear and promised to be back in just a few. The sky was clear and the snow was deep, making things just as difficult for the farmer and winemaker, hobbling over. Inside the coop, the older woman wrinkled her nose at the strong farm smell and watched the blonde at work.

"I remember when I found out I was pregnant with Aja," she giggled. "Duke nearly fainted in public."

"Were you happy?"

"Oh, yes. I always wanted to be a mommy. And after Aja, I always wanted more girls. But Duke wasn't so keen on the idea. You know, he's much better with grapes than babies. Grapes don't need a diaper change," the last part sounded like mimicking. "I was about your age, too. Anna is her godmother, we've always been best friends. And it wasn't even a two months until Anna found out about Mary, but Basil was much happier than Duke was. They even tried for others, but they gave up after their second miscarriage."

"That must be tough."

She nodded and sighed, wondering how the farmer was really doing on the inside.

"I want you to have a girl."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yes, I think Doug would, too."

She tucked a long blonde strand that fell out of the hairdo away, "Why?"

"Oh, couldn't you just imagine a little girl melting his heart? He's such a big softy on the inside - I bet Gray is, too. Even though you guys haven't talked, I just know he'll want it. Want a little girl that'll look just like you."

Claire blushed, "Right. Let's get to the stable."

On the slow hobble, she continued, "She could look just like Ann, or goodness, maybe even Annabell. Or just like you, that would just warm his heart so much. I can't wait until you're bigger - you won't be doing crops and you can come over and hang with the girls all the time while we sew things and plan the baby shower. We can all buy new outfits and shoes. I just can_not_ wait!"

The stable was insulated well with hay enough to keep a steady warmth flowing through. While Claire fed and brushed the rough pelt, she spoke up, "No crops?"

"Well, no, silly. You'll barely wanna get up in the morning!" she snickered. "Mornings, _gah_. I remember them. You're going to be queasy off of your pretty little behind, honey."

"Sounds great."

Manna made sure to get the farmer back in the home soon enough and prepare everyone a very large dinner. They'd usually drift off topic to their daughters or memories of what it was like raising their own, then go right back to discussing Claire's pregnancy. Mid meal, Porter barked madly until the door finally revealed a very exhausted Gray. He was surprised by the guests and thick aroma of a well prepared dinner and instinctively made his way towards Claire. Their eyes sunk low once he crouched over and leaned his forehead into hers, deeply taking in and admiring her aroma.

"Hey," she whispered.

"Hey."

He pressed their lips together for a short, intense kiss before waving to the others and going to the bathroom.

They all gushed over how adorable they thought the couple were, "Good Goddess, he is so in love with you!"

"That kiss!"

"Hot!"

"He even looked at you over the food. He must be in love!" they giggled.

"He looks so beaten up. His grandfather probably gave him a tough time today."

Sasha nodded, "You're right, Manny. We should let the couple have some private time."

The water pipes sounded from the shower working and Manna agreed, all three gathering dirty dishes and washing before hugging Claire for a large farewell and promising to come back tomorrow evening.

"Stay warm!" Manna advised. "Tonight there will be a storm. Stay safe, too."

"Okay."

"I love you very, very much, dear. Have a good night."

"Love you, too."

And with the door closing, a hefty sigh escaped her chest.

"Come on, Port. Let's get ready for bed."

The dog remained cuddled near the hot fireplace and barely took notice of her. The cast-covered leg was getting easier to control and move in and she was able to drag for the dresser and change into warm pajama bottoms with one of Gray's T-shirts. A beckoning for milk burned in the back of her throat and she slowly made it to the kitchen and enjoyed a cup. The blacksmith was out and grabbed some leftovers before joining her next to the counter.

"How are you?" he asked between fork fulls.

"Good. I'm just tired."

"Me, too. "

"How was your day?"

He swallowed, "Could have been worse."

"I'm sorry. Did your grandpa go for round two?"

"Yeah," he was chewing. "Then Old Man Barley came in and embarrassed the shit outta me. Remember before, when he said that thing about us having babies?"

Claire smiled and nodded.

"But it's better to be embarrassed than scolded by that old ass," he reached over and poured himself some tea. "Don't tell me those women already knew."

"They knew."

His icy blue eyes sharpened, "I don't even know why you're friends with them."

"I don't know why, either, most days," Claire leaned over and latched her arms around him. "But it wasn't all that bad. We discussed babies and things about babies and what it was like for them. It helped a bit."

A new look hardened over his face that she couldn't quite figure out. The silence ate them as he ate away at the rest of his dinner and washed up. They exchanged a long, mixed emotion heavy stare until Gray picked her up and sat them on the bed. It was another minute of caressing her face until he had to courage to bring everything up, "I want to keep it."

"So do I."

"I want her to have my last name."

"He will."

"I want to marry you."

"Okay."

"I don't want you to be unhappy."

"I'm not," she leaned in for a chaste kiss.

"And," he was focused on rubbing her smooth hands. "I want you to know that I now have full rights to kill Rick if he ever even looks at you in a way I disapprove."

She smiled wryly, "Okay."

Gray's chuckle breathed into a long sigh, "It's been quite a year, hasn't it?"

"It has. But I'm glad it happened."

"As am I," he traced her features with his nose and enjoyed her scent. "I love you, Goldie."

"I love you, too, asshat."

Her eyes slip closed as he bent to kiss her, long and slow, without any need to rush, without any need to hesitate or pull back. It wasn't until midnight, after long talks about nothing and long laughs and much-needed kisses that Claire fell asleep, tangled in blankets beside him. Gray stayed awake, mesmerizing the power lines of her slightly prudent muscles in her delicate sleeping features. The thought of a child actually being inside of her right now, their child, was a tad baffling. Her stomach was so smooth and flat, moving up and down with steady breathing.

Porter jumped from the couch and stood on his back legs - now a good five and a half feet tall - looking out and sniffing the windowsill.

"What is it, boy?"

He continued to sniff and scratch until Gray finally decided to open it a crack and glance outside. Nothing.

He went about gathering up Clarie's clothes, which were thrown about so happily that it was almost hard to look. He tried to fold them all up neatly, yet couldn't. He didn't know much about folding clothes, and after a few attempts it occurred to him that maybe they'd be better left slouched on the back of a chair.

A gust of wind brushed through the room, and he shivered but didn't move. Behind, he heard her shuffle, the rustling of fabric, the patting of her feet. When he turned to look at her, she was standing next to him shrouded in hesitancy and a T-shirt that was far too big for her. Something possessive gripped at him seeing her wear his clothes.

He held out a hand and she easily slipped into his embrace, letting his arm wrap around her waist. The dog took the opportunity and occupied his place at the end of the bed.

"Why are you up?" her voice was small and sleepy.

"Porter was being moody," he explained, pressing a long kiss to her temple. "You shouldn't be up walking on your leg so much."

Claire leaned over to shut the window and turned back into his embrace, "Then carry me back."

She fit perfectly in his hold and bounced when they hit the bed. His lips dragged kisses from her cheeks, down to her shoulders and back in slow circles. Everything in her stomach tightened and she fell into a deep, peaceful sleep.

Morning sickness steadied into a regular thing for Claire, and it wasn't until one morning a few days later that she stopped mid brush through her teeth that she realized something.

"Gray, we need to call my parents."

He was in the shower and didn't answer.

"I think I should invite them here for the holidays."

The water eventually shut off and he pulled a towel on before stepping out. She sat on the sink, anticipating a response.

"I guess."

Though the news she had to reveal was petrifying, a small part of Claire was overly excited to see her family again, "Okay!"

She leaped off of the porcelain and dragged to the kitchen, both preparing breakfast and the courage to dial. A swell of emotions bloated her belly and escalated to her throat like trapped air. It had been so long since she last heard from them. Even with the phone in hand and most numbers punched it, it took a few more tries to properly dial correctly. Her pulse was so heavy it ached. She could hear the numb ringing reaching the other line. Once. Twice. Three times.

"Hello?"

"Uh, hi. Hello. Is... is Mayor Gill there? Or his wife?"

"Hmmm," the voice was female. Someone she didn't recognize. "It's quite early. They might be in breakfast right now. Why don't you hold on while I check if they're available?"

"Okay."

Gray came out, scrubbing his wet hair and noticing her anxious expression. She was biting down hard on the bottom of her lip. Some ruckus and faded voices played in the background until heels padded the floor and a low hello came.

"Is this Mayor Gill?" the formalities were unnatural through her tongue.

"Yes, this is."

"Hi, dad."

There was a long pause.

"Claire? Is that you?"

"Yeah, dad, it's me-" from the other end, she could hear her mother shouting from the table and asking if it was really her. Her father affirmed and ramped heels flew towards the speaker. She heard her mother ask for her excitedly.

"Your mother wants to talk to you first, I suppose."

Claire laughed and allowed the switch. Her mother's voice boomed through the receiver.

"Claire? Sweetie, my Goddess! Oh, I've missed you so much!"

"I've missed you, too, mom."

"You have to tell me everything! How is your farm, what's Mineral Town like?"

Gray took over the pancakes and Claire grabbed his hand, "It's great. Everyone here is amazing. This last year was really good to me."

"That's lovely!"

"How are things there?"

The next five minutes were filled with explanations of every little detail she could have thought of. The carpenters, shopkeepers, her farm, her dad's work, marriages, break ups, animals, new learned recipes. "Are you planning on visiting us for the holidays? Oh, please do!"

"I... well, _we_ were wondering if you could come here-"

"_We_?" she gasped. "Do you have a roommate? A _boyfriend_? Clairey! You have a boyfriend!"

Claire could hear her father choke on some coffee. She laughed to fight off the embarrassment, "Yeah. I want you to meet him."

"We wouldn't miss this for the world! I can't wait to see you kiddos. Oh, it will be so much fun! I'll bring some food and your father will take time off. You've probably grown up so much, Claire-Bear. Have you even gotten a haircut lately?"

She thought about it, the way her blonde locks cascaded even under her butt, "Uh... I guess not, since... way before I moved."

"I'll bring my clippers! What about your clothes, do they all still fit? Do you need mo-"

"Mom. Mom, it's okay. I'm good, they all still fit."

Angela sighed, "Okay. I've just been so worried with you gone. I always want to visit, but I just... I'm always so cautious to give you your space. That's... that's part of growing up, even though I'll always see you as my little girl. Do you - do you remember that one time..." and she started tearing up. "Oh, Goddess. I'm such a mess. Here, Gilly. Take the phone."

There was more background noise.

"A boyfriend?" was the first thing he asked.

Claire looked up to Gray, flipping a pancake better than she ever could, and squeezed his hand, "He's great, dad. Really." When Gill didn't talk, she continued. "You might know him. His grandfather owns the blacksmith here, I'm sure he's done business with us before. His name's Gray."

"Familiar sounding."

"You can meet him and his entire family."

"I didn't think you liked boys yet," he sounded stressed. It was a lie - she'd brought home her share of boys in the past. Each either scared away by his threats or her mother's all-too-cheery wedding plans.

"You'll come see me?"

"Of course."

She expected him to be flustered - being asked to go away from work. His surefire answer caused her heart to thud faster, "I miss you, dad."

"I miss you, most, Claire. Truly. Work hasn't been as great without you here as my little assistant."

She chuckled, and from the back, she heard her mother recalling a memory from way back, when Claire did something to someone about something relating to her fathers job.

"Your mother's a wreck."

Though she couldn't see, she know they shared that old smirk together. After another minute of the awkward three-ish way conversation, they exchanged last information things and condolences. Putting the phone down was like laying down a large log from her shoulders.

"Done."

"Should I be scared?" he joked.

Claire looked straight into his light eyes and pulled his face down for a chaste kiss.

"Terrified."


	15. Chapter 15

**So, I think I've come up with an estimated length for this story. Try for about 23 chapters, give or take one or two. Someone asked me if the pregnancy was the "tragedy." No, sorry, having a baby isn't the peak of hell. The baby will be safe, I promise.**

* * *

**Chapter 15**

* * *

"Gray!" she screamed. "Gray!"

He woke up in an instant, alert and in shock. Claire climbed over him and hid, using his bare shoulder.

"What's going on?"

Her nails were digging into his skin, "There's a bug over there!"

His first reaction was to get a weapon and kill an intruder. The words made his eyebrows mash together and he turned to look at her, "A bug. You're freaking out... over a bug."

"Gray, I'm serious! Kill it!"

He sighed and grabbed a magazine on the nightstand. She gave the generic description of "big, icky and human-eating" while showing him where she last saw it. They bickered back and forth until he finally saw the spider and gave it a good whack, then as payback, held it up close to her face. Her voice grew three octaves higher and she slid deep under the covers. Gray rolled his eyes and checked the time while throwing out the weapon and dead insect.

"Why are you awake at four in the morning?"

Claire wiggled to check if it was safe before getting out of the sheets and answering, "I couldn't go back to sleep."

"That's great. Now let me sleep."

He settled back down and waited for the night to take him again for another few hours. Claire was still lively and unwilling to sleep, something was just exciting her. Like a child who couldn't sleep the night before their birthday. Her fingers traced along his chest outlines and it wasn't long until he hugged her close and opened his eyes again.

"You're a monster."

"And we're not even married yet."

His eyes sobered and his rough hand crawled to the ball of her shoulder and collarbone line, "Have you thought of a date for our wedding?"

"Uh," she puckered her lips and clicked her tongue in thought. "Nope."

"You're not a very good woman, as far as women go."

"And why not?" she pushed him away. "Do you want another slap to the face?"

That always pushed her buttons the most: saying she wasn't lady-like. To be fair, she wasn't, Gray thought. A farmer with a blunt attitude. An overall-wearing mud roller.

"Calm down, Goldie."

"No!" she tried shoving him out of the bed. "Go sleep on the couch, asshat!"

He muttered a few swear words and mocked her, "And we're not even married yet."

"You piss me off."

Claire clumped the sheets around her bare body and attempted to jump off the bed and claim the couch as her own, but his arms tangled around her frame and pressed her on top of him, "Calm down."

"No," she mumbled like a child, but did the opposite and relaxed into his chest.

"You're very much a woman, Goldie. You know I was just joking," his voice was warm and coaxing in her ears as his fingers ran through her long blonde locks. "I love you."

"Whatever."

"Goldie."

"Hmph."

He rolled over and the mattress cushioned his weight on her, "Goldie."

Her eyes avoided his and Gray dragged his nose along her jawline. There was a sudden feeling that caused his heart to pound faster for so many reasons. The softness of her skin, the way he could notice her pulse if he looked long enough at her neck. Her internal struggle clear on those beautiful features, battling her own pride against his touch. His own pride rose while watching. In a slow, intimate motion, he cleared her face of any blonde hairs and laid a tender kiss on her lips. There was a particular interest in the bottom lip and enjoying its unique pucker and sweetness.

"Spring fifth."

He smiled and played with the pendant that still hung from her throat, "Good. That gives me enough time."

"Enough time for what?" Her curiosity was piqued and she began fixing his hair.

"Finishing your ring."

"Don't you need to know my size?"

"I know it."

Her fine brow arched, "Oh, really?"

He gave a wryly smile, "I've held your hands long enough to know."

"Like a true professional," warm fingers dragged along his defined bicep. "Thank you."

"Anything for my wife," he whispered. Goosebumps rose on their skin at the words, how new they were. Their pulses raced harder and she pulled him in for broad, immersed kisses. Gray fully enjoyed the amount of privacy they were given since he moved in, despite his father threatening to live with them after the pregnancy.

"Gray," she was breathing hard.

He kissed her more.

"Gray, I'm going to puke."

Their privacy, though, was already being dissolved by the baby who wasn't even there yet.

After the crack of dawn and the usual house chores and farm work was finished, Gray took Claire for a slow walk with Porter to help her leg stretch out. They talked about his work and Saibara, then about her farm and their combined success and profits. When she brought up the subject of purchasing a herd of animals, he grew very stubborn.

"No."

"You can't tell me _no_."

"I just did."

"Doesn't matter. You don't have a say in this."

"I definitely do," he glared. "You're going to work your fingers to the bone and do something really stupid one day and hurt yourself and the baby."

"Will not."

"Will, too."

"Nope."

He sighed, "Stop. This isn't up for debate."

"You're right, it's not."

"Please. Be serious for once, Goldie. Could you at least _try_ and agree with me and not be such a stubborn jackass?"

Her hand left his and she shoved them into her coat pockets, "If I quit farming, you quit smithing."

"You're so damn irrational."

"Rick doesn't think so."

She could press his buttons so well. But he could stomp on hers better, "That's because Rick only sees your manly side."

"Really?" she hissed and they stopped walking. Porter was chasing a fox. "Because I think he's seen my topless side, too."

A fire burned in his eyes, "You're the most infuriating woman I've ever met."

"Congratulations on being blessed with the rest of your life with me and knocking me up."

"Knocking you u-" He couldn't finish the sentence, he was deeply flustered. "_You're_ the one who wouldn't let me get a freaking condom, Claire!"

"What about the other six thousand times you came over and sucked my face off, huh, asshat? Because _you're_ the one who couldn't keep his pants on!"

It was an awkward conversation to be screaming out in the open woods, Gray realized. Gotz was probably ready to shoot himself with all of this shouting, "You've got your story on backwards, Goldie."

"Yes, because I impregnated myself. Logic, Gray. Completely logical."

"You know what?" Porter ran between them for a loose squirrel. "I've accepted complete responsibility for my actions, Claire. I've manned the _hell_ up with all the punches people have given me. I've taken all the shit you give me without so much as a _complaint_. _You_ are the one who needs to realize that we're a Goddess damned team. We have to work _together_ and stop thinking about what _we_ want and start focusing on what our _child_ wants."

He took her silence as an offering to keep going, "I love you to death. I work my ass to the bone every day trying to get my grandfathers approval. I do that for you, because I need you to be proud of me. I need you to have a husband you can always rely on for anything. I need _you_. And some days, even when I want to give up and leave everything, I suck it up because I have to. Because I know damn well that you're in our house, waiting for me to be there. I do a shit ton for us, and you need to grow up and work with me. I am trying to do it all, but sometimes, I can't, okay? I'm here, but you gotta open your mind and let me make some rules. You have to trust me enough to know what's going to work."

Her dark eyes were avoiding his completely, covered by the bill of the UMA hat, but all he wanted was to look into them and see her emotions.

"I need you to be willing to trust me," he repeated, softer this time. "I'm not always the bad guy."

"You think I don't trust you?" Claire sneered.

"I don't know."

"How could you think that?" she looked up at last. Warm tears left a trail for the cold to nip at. "After I tell you I love you? After I let you love me back? After I opened up to you more than any other person, you think I don't trust you?"

"Don't cry-"

"Shut up. Don't coddle me like a baby, iron head. If you want me to grow up, then just say what you need to. If you don't respect my decisions and what I'm trying to do-"

"Don't respect you?" Gray's mouth hung open. "You're an idiot. An absolute idiot. You haven't listened to a damn word I've said. You're a lost cause, woman."

"Then leave, like you always want to. Go find an easy life and an easy girlfriend who wants to hear this crap."

And Gray left. Claire was standing next to the pond, alone with the dog and unsure of what to do next. Her stubborn side refused to cry over it, refused to take anything he said to heart. Porter raced up to her when she sat on a stump and huffed a large gulp of air out.

"Hey, buddy," her fingers ran through his short coat. "You sure did get big, didn't you?"

His tongue fell out on the side and he looked like he was smiling.

"It's not even eight in the morning and my day is ruined."

"Why's yer day ruined, Ms. Claire?"

In shock, she turned around and saw Basil hiking towards her without his large backpack or walking stick, "Where's all of your stuff?"

"I can't be out long today. We have a wedding to go to."

"A wedding?"

He arched a brow, "Trent and Elli's wedding, silly. Aren't ya a brides maid?"

"Shit!" she swore and apologized. After a very haste goodbye, Porter and Claire raced home as quick as possible with the limping leg and rushed to get everything ready. After filling the fireplace, his food and water dish back up for the mutt to be good with for a day, she made it over to the winery.

Duke opened up, "Claire! I wasn't expecting you here. Come on in, it's freezing out there."

"Is Manna here?" she looked around and set the bagged dress down.

"Right upstairs, getting ready for the wedding. You need her help getting ready?"

"Desperately."

Duke helped her up the steps and Manna gushed an ocean of kisses and questions on Claire. Manna was too excited to notice that the farmer was zoned out the entire time during the gossip and fitting. The woman was wearing a poofy, knee length sparkling dress with sharp heels. As usual, utterly dazzling. To cover the cast away, Elli bought Claire a floor length, white gown with elegant draping and free of any straps.

"I'm going to freeze my ass off," she complained.

"Language, missy!"

"Can I wear the hat?"

"Most certainly not!"

It took another agonizing chunk of time for the housewife to be satisfied with their hair and makeup before running to the church.  
Claire felt like her left was going to snap out with all of the pressure. But they made it on time to the lobby, where Elli was standing with Mary, adjusting all of her last minute things. Manna rushed past and sneaked through a side door to make sure the bride wouldn't be revealed. All men and maids were lined in front of the bride.

"Goddess sake, I thought you'd forgotten, Claire!" Elli gasped.

After apologizing, she poured compliments from her mouth like a waterfall for how beautiful she was, how beautiful the decorations were. The farmer was hauled ahead to meet her place next to the man of destruction: Gray. The tension was incredibly heated. Neither so much as glanced at each other or touched while released for walking down the isle.

Trent was bright as the summer sun when Elli came down the isle with Stu and May in front, throwing out flowers in uneven patterns. Mary was right behind her, the maid of honor, as Won, the best man, stood beside Trent.

The couple was extraordinary paired together.

Ellen was bawling her eyes out, while Ann would woot every now and then. Carter was extremely joyful and blessed the couple with the love of the Goddess and recited the needed verses for the vows.

Claire was woozy during most of it, whether it be from the baby or emotions. It wasn't pleasant to witness so much love when Gray was standing across the room, parallel to her and void of any notion for her.

When the final words were spoken and they kissed, a storm for congratulations and rice were blown into the church and everyone gathered in the lobby long enough to announce that the reception would be held at the inn. Freezing and in pain, Claire walked painfully slow behind the lover crowd. Rick came up to her.

"Need help, Claire?"

She couldn't speak, her tongue was lodged between her teeth to stop the pain, and resorted to nodding and resting her full weight into him. They were the trailing couple outside of the crowd and were a street behind when everyone was at the inn.

"You look stunning."

"Thanks," her voice was strangled. "You do, too."

"Are you okay?"

"No."

"Want to talk?"

Her head rose and their eyes met. They stood still in the crushed snow in silence and chills. He did look nice in a black tuxedo and combed back hair. Surprisingly, she leaned in and hugged him tight.

"You're a really good friend, Rickie," the words were watered down in his chest.

He hadn't been this close to Claire in... ever. She was so tiny that he could touch both elbows while hugging her. There was a sweet aroma flowing from her body he couldn't exactly pinpoint.

"So are you."

"I don't always show it, but I do love you. You put up with a lot of my shit."

"You put up with a lot of mine."

"How's Karen?"

He chuckled and rubbed his nose in her neck, "Great. She's happier these days without all the alcohol."

"I'm glad."

He could tell she was crying when they pulled back, "What's wrong?"

"I'm pregnant and my leg hurts. I want to puke on everything but I haven't eaten anything."

The blood emptied from his features and his mouth fell wide open, "You're _pregnant_?"

"Yeah. With a baby."

"Clearly."

"Am I okay?" she looked up. "I never wear makeup. I don't know how this stuff works in all honesty."

"You're fine," he choked out.

"Good. Let's go."

They waddled into the inn, where everything was different. The tables were draped with elegant white cloth, ribbons and balloons hung everywhere, guests were posh and filled with drinks in hand and busy conversations. The center was bare and it wasn't for a while until Claire realized that it was meant for dancing on.

Ann ripped the farmer away from the chicken boy and into the back kitchen. There was a cake there, but vacant of any people.

"What's going on?" The ginger demanded.

"Wow, thanks. You're looking great, too, Ann," she heaved a sigh out.

"I'm serious, Claire!"

"I'm sorry. You're right, you should know," the blonde sighed. "Ann, we're at a wedding."

"Dipshit!" she smacked her arm. "Stop being a smartass and spill the beans. If you weren't aware, the rage between you and Gray could have blown up the church."

"Fancy."

"Claire."

Her eyes narrowed, "We got in a big fight this morning, okay? It doesn't matter."

"About what?"

"None of your business."

"None of my business, my ass!" her hands flew up. "If I don't know, my dad will wanna know, and all hell will break loose again."

Claire frowned, "I dunno, Ann. It was just a typical argument that somehow escalated into us..."

"No," she was horror-struck. "You guys did _not_ break up."

"No, we didn't. We just... I don't know. I honestly don't."

"Shit sucks. You want a drink?"

Claire glared.

"Aha, right. Baby in your belly. Sucks to be you, dipshit."

"Can you just _go_?" she snapped, and Ann grew wide eyed. "Do you not see that I have been walking on a broken leg all day and out in the freezing cold because your damn brother left me? Can you not see that I am on the verge of waterworks again and spewing my guts all over the floor if I have to smell any more of this food?"

Ann awkwardly shifted and clicked her tongue, "I think you need to rest."

"I think I need to die."

"Nah, c'mon," she guided her soon-to-be sister-in-law into Gray's room and settled her on the bed. "You're gonna be a hot mama and Gray's gonna be all sappy and grope-y and horny around you again in no time. Don't worry."

"Goodbye, Ann."

"See ya, Baby McBelly. I'll tell Elli if she asks that you got all pregnant and stuff and had to rest."

"Thanks."

"Now, if you'll excuse me, Cliff and I need to dance with an arms length proximity so my dad doesn't kill him."

Alone in Gray's old room, she drew herself completely on his bed and lifted the dress up. Through the thin cast, blood was seeping to the surface. A slur of swears left her lips and she balled her body into the fetal position. She felt strangled as an empty Christmas stocking, wailing for her piece of coal. Though her body ached all over and her mind wanted to rest, she got up and dragged towards the bathroom to wash away the junk on her face. It wasn't until the hot water comforted her face that she began spilling tears and reciting the day in her head. Giving her leg just one more strained journey, Claire went back to the room and shuffled through his empty drawers before finding an old shirt and exchanging it for the uncomfortable gown.

The bed still had a thick blanket and pillow and she hid in the sheets. She drowned her sobs within the pillow and hugged it along her body, expecting it to transform into someone she needed. Her mother, her father, Manna. Gray.

Of course he was right.

She knew it from the second he admitted everything this morning that he was right about everything. There was growing up to do, words to exchange, compassion to share and love to give. But that seemed near impossible. There wasn't a second of her life that she'd want Gray to leave and find a new life. She didn't want Gray to walk around every day, holding what happened this morning back like he was an ambulance with someone dead inside. The truth just wasn't something she wanted in their reality and it was easier to look away and tread on easy water.

The cries came harder and hurt more in her frail state. The pain in her leg was upsetting her stomach and her limbs all felt dead, as if every organ was moving in slow motion.

Time grew like weeds through cement and failed to sooth her aching mind and heart.

Ann came in to check on her and noticed the depressed atmosphere. Without a word, she slipped out and back into the party. Elli was dancing with Trent alone, all eyes and lights on them while the townspeople watched in admiration. It took a few "Excuse me," and "Move it," quiet announcements to manage through the crowd before finding her family. Doug was at bliss, Cliff and Saibara both stoic, and Gray still stone hard.

"Hey," she whispered. "Code red, bucko."

He glanced over and gave her a stare of annoyance. Doug hushed his daughter. This time, she leaned in on her brother and whispered lower.

"Code red: Italian sauce is dead in the batcave."

"Are you drunk?" he hissed.

"Not yet. Why?"

He cursed her away and went back to staring the the newlyweds.

"Are you not listening to me? If you don't get back there-"

Doug turned to shush them again.

Gray was glaring, "If you don't leave me alone, he'll have both of our heads."

"Were you born upside down, shithead?" Ann punched him under the table. "I said: _Code red: Italian sauce is dead in the batcave_."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"You're the worst spy ever," she growled. "It means, your little Prego female fiance is not alive in your room!"

He got up and stalked away from Ann, past the herd of people and into the kitchen. Though this morning still had him livid to the core, that didn't mean he wanted Claire to be hurt. The feeling was strange, walking back into his room like he did so many nights before he met Claire. And there she was, curled tightly in his bed with her chest heaving in cries that were mellowed out through the pillow. The tissues of his heart felt like tearing apart from the guilt beating him up.

He noticed the dress puddled on the floor as he kicked off his shoes and climbed into the bed with her. Being in a tuxedo and laying in bed was not a comfortable feeling. Nevertheless, he pried the pillow away and adjusted it to go beneath their heads.

"Goldie," he cuddled into her body and took in her aroma.

Her body struggled to stop hiccuping and stay still long enough for a reply. Instead, she blindly reached for his face and cupped it with possessiveness. He was so much warmer than she was.

"It's okay," he cooed. "Everything's going to be alright."

"Please don't leave me," she whispered.

"I'm not leaving you."

"I just..." her chest heaved with another gasp for air. "I'm sorry."

"Everything's okay, Goldie. Just sleep," he kissed her temple. Her eyes twinkled at him, swollen with redness. "We'll talk in the morning."

As her hands absentmindedly latched to his, Gray knew he could never leave her.


End file.
